i couldn’t help….


but see your


in this photo.

we used to

come to this place,

and walk

down this same street,

and talk about

a future with you,

before you were you,

and watch similar

clouds roll

over us.

and last year i

was here with you,

but you couldn’t walk,

and you had no

words for the

things you loved

and hated.

and now…

you walk these

streets with me,

picking up rocks,

throwing them as

far as you can,

yelling “birdie”

and “fock”

(which i think is frog, but sounds more like “fuck”),

and yelling for

any person who may

be too far

ahead or behind

you on this road.

and i think about

a future with you,

a future that

will be nothing

short of perfect,

despite the imperfect start.

so keep running,

throwing, and kinda

swearing, ’cause

it makes me happy.

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