You are the light in my eyes
you are French fries in Belgium
you are brie in France
you make me want to dance
to a tune I can’t hear
you make me have no fear
you make me want to fly to the moon
you are starry nights in June
and walking barefoot through the sand dunes
and flying kites and one last bite
and you make me want to bake
another German chocolate cake
and you make me want to roll up my sleeves
and rake up these leaves and clean the yard
then stop working so hard and sit with you
and watch the spider for an hour as she weaves
then thieves the lives of flies and other bugs
you make me higher than any drug ever could
you make me feel so good
you make me melt like wax
you make me want to resist paying tax
you make me want to plant a forest
for the sake of the trees
you make me want to liberate the bees
and let them keep their honey
you make me forget about money
and this might sound sappy
but you make me happy
no matter what color the skies are
you make me want to go far
and stay right here
you make me want to live
another year
you make me want to learn
a hundred more languages
and write you poetry in all of them
or at least be able to translate this poem
into those hundred languages
so these words never bore you
because darling,
I adore you
and darling,
I want to explore you
but not like Columbus
no, I don’t want to colonize
I just want to look into your eyes
while you look in mine
and know that everything will be fine
I want to draw lines with you in the sand
and watch the ocean erase
I want to lay with you in the meadow
and stare out into space
and get lost for hours counting stars
I want to hear stories about the bazaars
I want to roll cigars with the tobacco that we grew
I want to make matching bracelets
that say ‘What Would We Do?’
I want to talk about the 1953 coup
I want to talk about right and wrong
I want to write you a song
and teach the birds to sing along
and the words won’t matter
because it’ll be more of just a tune
let’s find a hot air balloon and fly away
let’s go back to Lyon one day
and play bocce ball and stay again
for the Fête de la Musique,
let’s stay another week
or two or three
or four or five
then drive to Amersfoort
and drink some Persian tea
you make me want to see the world
but also never leave this farm
you make me want to never cause
another being harm
you are my lucky charm
my muse
you are my gourmet chef
and you’re the reason why,
my dear
I’ll never feel bereft