we could’ve swapped letters, 

and possibly our sweaters,

a slice of life, like apple pie,

to share with just us two.

we could’ve both pretended we weren’t writing just for you.

we could’ve started all anew

a burst of sonnets, all of them true 

we wrapped in a bouquet like flowers 

pretending they were just freshly picked too.

the times have changed now, in lieu,

we tear the petals off the stems-

could we have possibly been more true,

and seen the world 

as it sees you? 

but then our little world would stop,

you’d watch our bodies sink and drop,

we’d never see it from your view

we’d watch you fade away like the early morning dew.