Maybe he will hold my hand.


We will walk there together.

Maybe I’ll be alone,

In the shack of my dreams.


Maybe the children will belong to him.

Maybe I’ll adopt a melting pot.

I know this–

My house will be dripping with crystals

And wind-chimes.


Maybe cats and dogs will trot about.

Maybe I’ll grow a garden too.

Far away from the city,

Her drama,

Her smog,

Her metro travel too.

I don’t know if he’ll be there.

Maybe he’ll visit.


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