I wish we could
strip down to our
underwear
and jump into the waves,
even when it’s winter and
the lake is frozen
over.

I don’t want
to forget the
kisses on street corners,
lingering whispers,
the way you feel
inside me.
I am blinded by
my own imagination,
surrounded by reality

and insecurity.

I want to rip you apart.
I want to make you happy and whole.

Is it true
that wishes only exist
on birthdays?