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.