I want to sneak out of my house
late at night and walk barefoot
across the golf course in my back
yard, hold your hand, feel your thumb
rub rhythmically back and forth
across mine, and talk for hours
about everything and nothing, and
then run back giggling across the
greens, race against the sun back
to my bed before my mom wakes up.
But instead I'm sitting alone wanting
you so much it almost makes me cry and
I don't even know if you exist.