wish on a balloon; stars are overrated

imagine:
             hopes and wishes written in acres of green and purple ink, joined by simple commas and
             neverending.
             i'd tie them to kites and hot air balloons and watch them fly away
             hope that they reach God
             or you.

imagine:
             leaning over the edge of the basket and seeing it all; the blue sheets and patchwork green quilt that
             mother nature sleeps in. she doesn't seem to know quite how to make her bed and she's left the
             whole wide world
             as rumpled as the bed
             we sleep in at night.

imagine:
             flying higher and higher than icarus could ever imagine and never falling because our wings aren't
             wax; they're real and you can feel each feather gliding against the wind.
             we'll wave to the hot air balloons
             as we fly up to cloud ten
             or even heaven.

(you should know that there's really only one thing written on that long piece; how much i want the
spaces between my fingers to be taken up by yours.
i've just written it in a million different tongues in case God doesn't speak English.)