On Monday, I personify the love scene.
On Tuesday, if I raise your ire, is it as a feral child or as a weapon?
On Wednesday, there was the clandestine night spent at the airport:
what goes up must go up.
On Thursday, I came across a book that struck me as perfect, or was it just me,
On Friday, the all-night diner closed & it took all winter for winter to arrive.
On Saturday, you bore a crown of fool’s gold.
On Sunday, you wished upon a star you didn’t count the last time.
I counted on you, though, as I must have loved you at some time or other.