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Poets ask, “What is love?” because as a rule, poets are not hot.

.Hannah
I have fallen head over heels in love with a doodler named Hannah. She smells of old books and clouds.She works with old people, and I hope one day we will be like the old couples she finds so adorable.Every night, after work, she comes over to watch cartoons with me, we laugh and laugh. Sometimes, she draws on my bedroom walls with crayons. It's beautiful.Then when she must go home for the night, I tell her that I will see her tomorrow. With a smile and a kiss, she drives away. I go back inside and go to sleep, dreaming of someday when two old geezers laying in bed together can say "good night" without it meaning "good bye."
written by Dalton

~PEACE~