Just everything.
All of it.
I want the
music, the laughter, the tears,
The front row seat
And the starring role,
The feast
assembled on the blanket
Spread out
under the oak tree.
And I hope
you don’t mind,
But would
you please
Take my hand
and lead me
Where no one
else
Has gone
before?
And while
you’re at it,
Speak softly
in my ear
Words of
love only I understand.
Our private
Esperanto.
And in the
garden
Overflowing
with roses, laden with fruit,
Make love to
me.
Make Rumi
for me.
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