Wish You’d Come Help Me–
They call me a summer,
so I’ll probably meet you in winter
because that’s just who I am,
but hopefully you know that already.
***
They say you’ll be wrapped in golden twine,
like the kind that ties our lives together
and roughly translates heart to head
or lends magic to my dreams of your smile.
Yes, the twine we both wear in those dreams of mine,
when we spelunk into stars and laugh at life,
and when you help me believe in everything again,
even those times we lived planets apart.
These shimmery strings chafe music on my memories,
the futures and pasts of my past and future lives,
and the violin’s bow is yours now, as it’s always been,
the stranger who snows soft music into my lives.
***
Snow falls from my coat, splashing drab bookshelves–
wait, have I heard this song before?
My heart stops and I see gold, then hear it and taste it.
“Can I help you with anything today, sir?”
Those eyes look so familiar.
If you’re currently struggling to find something to believe in, let me offer you some heartfelt advice: eye-contact will help.
Love always,
your Mister
Lonely Hearts Chapel 