I want to blow you a glass umbrella
So that when it rains you can look up
Without water swimming in your eyes
And see what the sky's tear duct looks like,
For the first time.
I want to paint you a perfect edge
To a storm cloud coming in over the sun.
I want to darken it with my diction,
With words that illuminate light itself.
Then you'd open my transparent phrase
And ride your bike with one hand,
While gazing contrary to your motion
As I know, I always do.
I wonder, is it different for you?
I think I'll forge you a rusty garbage can
Using jumbles of nonsensical words
That you don't know
And neither did I, at the time.
The l