I think that I should like to see the world
as you do.
All fresh and open, clean and bright; like a flower
that has just bloomed, or the first page of a new journal –
leather-bound, of course.
One where you can start over, make it what you want for it to be.
Hide the old one, the one with the lock and key,
where no one will find it,
until you have filled this one with words and pictures and stories
of things that girls like you do.
I won’t tell, if you won’t.