I Found You

We met on the script of a tea stained paper trampling footsteps of ink and scattered fingerprints. I traced you on blank beds of word, catching letters as we spoke, drawing hearts within the sheets and coloring outside the lines. The book begins to burn as we pretend to set fire to the sun scribbling lightning strikes in black wind, crumpling our story in patterns, doodling secret notes and love letters tied in rope until they blow away.