Coco

I want your freckled cheeks and blond eyelashes

and I want your flying hair

and I want your careful words that start tumbling fast,

woven together,

please

so I can wrap myself up

and remind myself of happy.

I would weave in the tears of a mermaid, the breath of my love, and the drop of the ocean

When you are old

Your skin will become like paper,

And your bones will be like the wooden ribs

Of a lantern

So that the world will see the light in your chest.

But I don't need to wait