People With Love

If you are my neighbor,
I will love the trees
You plant for your child
To swing alone in the wind.

If you were my love
I would tell you that

You could fly and that
Cities get lost, drinking
Red wine from Spain,
Sipping all the accents.

But would you believe me?
Does it matter?

We believe like children
Reaping calm manifestations
That twist as we fall and imagine
Before we fly and while we soar

Through the air
Past our landing.