Write a thank-you note, seal it up

and send it away in the mail

Stand on your toes to reach the mailbox at the post office

breifly touch the shiny blue metal that you always longed

to scrape up against;

(just another tic, right?)

But instead you just slip your ill-wished letter in

and let it fall away from you

like so many lopsided years of childhood.

Yeah, shove in the envelope-caged note-

like you used to when you were eight years old

Sending away for that action-themed toy.

Plastic and priceless, you held it in such high regard.

That note is on it's way now,

lets hope you were sure to

cross your eyes

and dot your tees

and close the thing with a flourishing signature.

You'll be sure to catch everyone's attention,

Like you always do-

In your big black boots and your bright red dress.

the corporeal reasons for your wearing those things,

still stand threadbare in my mind.

You had an attention complex;

you were the bi-polar wannabe of wasted youth,

weren't you? In your own secret section of abnormality-

That being normalcy.

You wear your grace at the nape of your neck, lover

And I wish it were my hands unfolding your secrets,

rather than your patchwork-quilt sweetheart's

with his sunset eyes and his soft hands,

Too soft, so nearly intangible.

You were born on a busy day in the summer

I'm sure sweaty bodies packed together like sardines

In their little cars

On their way to the beach

just looking for some relief.

You know, one of those sticky-popsicle, shirt-clinging-to-your-back

Sort of days.

You were born-heavy metal pounding through your veins

always ready to join the fray.

Didn't he always remember your special day?

Almost like you came into the world with a big red 'x' on the calendar

Didn't he always get you the best present

That a boyfriend could ever get?

My home-made gifts never meant much to you.

But oh, your conspicuous lover with

his sunset eyes, dulling down to nothing

as evening seeps into the sky

Always gave you the most expensive gifts-

like he had a money-tree in his back yard.

He'll never be able to hold your attention,

Once the sun goes down.

Maybe, some time, when the lights are shining too bright

Like a vivid red scream!

My evening eyes will console you

Soak up some of that sun...

And forget which face they're peering from;

(my own, so undeserving).

Let's just hope that thank-you note

reaches the right eyes

peering from the right face.

Happy Birthday, love.