Six Years, Ten Months

What would you like to do on the eighth day of April
When the sky is so blue
and so are your eyes?
You lie on a cloud of pillows
awaiting your tea.
I come to you with a smile and a cup.
(god, your eyes are so blue this morning)
You want to be with me, you say.
Today, like yesterday,
like everyday for almost seven years.
I watch you sip, watch the clouds float across the sky.
I know what I want to do today.
I want to float across you like a cloud.