Making angels out of paper, they fly so well in the breeze from the screen door.
Hope you notice all the left-handed scissors I brought just for you. For you.
And all the brand-new crayons, perfectly unstained,
soldier straight in the box they came in.
My humble offering.
I want to draw you in. I want to draw you in.
Hope it’s not too obvious, all the red construction paper
Laid out on the table and held down with paint jars.
But if I’m bold it’s only ‘cause until this,
I’ve been holding together with popsicle sticks,
Clear tape and paperclips in the back, where you can’t see.
I want to draw you in. I want to draw you in to me.
Paper cut upon my hand, got careless with my art.
This heart is like a teardrop folded, but you’re opening me up.
You’re opening me up.
© Heather Aubrey Lloyd
