Nights are wrapped up like Christmas packages,
and as we whisper the world opens its eyes.
You hold onto the sheets, ready to take off,
we could float.

And I was to catch the joy spilling from you,
feel it in the pink of my hands
and trace the lines the form when you laugh,
watch them grow deeper,
and remember where the began.

Together we will go where the sky is bigger,
where clouds eat the mountains,
where grass warms the land
and our words spill out in all directions
and we forget we might ever grow old.