Number Nine
It was April and you were restless. 
The winter had kept you in for longer than necessary, 
and you knocked on my door late one evening 
and told me to get ready, 
and I'd did so. 
You drove us to the forest, 
and we were in the midst of the dark trees for so long 
I swore we were lost, 
but eventually we came to a clearing. 
It was a cool night. 
You parked the car and got out a blanket,
covering a bit of the glistening grass 
and sprouting wildflowers,
and we laid out there, 
beneath the glittering stars, 
you pointing out all the constellations. 
I could not have imagined a better time 
than watching your face light up, 
you happier than you've ever been 
in quite a long time.