Wendy, Darling.

I am certain

That that second star

Hides behind your right ear,

Nestled somewhere in your midnight hair.

Would you have tied me to

Leonard Cohen’s kitchen chair,

I think I’d start doodling and drawing

Something resembling your face.

And I never learned how to resolve a major fifth–

The kings I find that baffle you

Are maybe just in need of a haircut too.

I will always keep your thimble in my pocket

For you to take back,

Wendy, Darling.