I miss it a little, the bullets we shot through books.
Now it’s all about shipwrecks and you’ll not feel the drowning.
deer huckleberry,
maybe its just the growing wrinkles in our brow. maybe it is the new honeysuckle growing outside of our window shutting closed the windows. maybe it is big eyes and a quiet stare, but whatever it is you and i are closing a door and sticking it closed with the last of our honey. i remember when we were a pair of pears, faces smeared with each others bubblegum kisses. now the birds are making arrows and flying home, and love is dropping like bombs, and this time, my deer, i don’t know that i can crawl back. i wanna pour firecrackers out of my eyes onto the rooftop so that an explosion can lead you back to me, but i know that is just silly. dreams pass, and waking is sad. know that my deer eyes have loved you more than love should expand, and i can only hope every moment was real. one just can’t love alone, cause that is what causes thunderstorms and gingerbread houses to collapse. so this is where i end, for a while. though your words haven’t graced our walls in sometime now, ill explore the forest and leave candy kisses as a trail to where ill lead, but eventually the markings with disappear and so will my dotted back and smile. i believe that we are after the same rainbows end, my huckleberry friend. i have loved you. i will love you. there are no more words.
goodnight huckleberry,
bambi
