Thursday, April 17, 2014

Twenty-five

The night before your birthday,
when the last quarter moon lights up in the sky,
I'll be standing outside in the dark on my tiptoes trying to
glue all of my wishes for you onto Thatcher's shooting stars.

That there are as many ways as there are hours,
that you're dear to my heart even lacking superpowers,
that you won't ever have to hide your tears,
that I will love you for many years.

That I'd let you win in musical chairs,
that I will still be there when no else cares,
that you are beautiful with all the scars,
that I will always hold you fondly in my arms -

I am forever wishing you the very best.



(Lyrids meteor shower peaks on Earth Day this year. The morning after, one of my favorite people on Earth celebrates his twenty-fifth birthday. This is just a silly something from my heart to his. I will love you for many years, you annoying little thing.)

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