You will follow me until the moss covered chalk end of the world
And in an instant turn a racing stallion in the rain.
You could not know what it meant to become Other until you did.
There is nothing wrong with the thought of letting me go.

Sunflowers would not allow each other this proximity.
We are much more like the corals your dad is slowly killing
But it could not be any less his fault. I have yet to tell you
About the story of the cucumbers in the white hospital room.

I did not know writing a letter could be so similar
To sailing a boat, and at the same time, so dissimilar
To falling in love.

I have a feeling it may hail tonight.