Love Letters for Spring Break

little fragments, like snow kissed eyelashes,
slip into the pocket of a sweater i'll wear for always.
i'll bring the dried oranges
so we'll enjoy the sweet, even if the sun hasn't come in a week.
for this, i'd wake early. sing you madrigals. break off carrots in my own mouth.
and in my head rings bells of lullabies, softer still than a cool ripple
in the street puddles,
and gentle as the blankets made of t-shirts
dipped in scents of all colors,
sorrowsome-seafoam blending
crushed-velvet-veritas, and
the brightest of such,
i-love-you-so-much.