This year will be a year
of letters folded up into
tiny paper airplanes
soaring across the Atlantic ocean.
Irrelevant tidbits scribbled onto
pages crammed with notes
about German grammar.
This and that written in
neat cursive tucked away
in the creases of our
paper airplanes.
Our sweet nothings will
mean more to me
than so many sweet somethings.
And until we return to
our origins,
the skies between us shall be
filled with criss crossing
paper airplanes,
each one
carrying something
just a little
different.