A Thousand Paper Hearts

A thousand paper hearts

Slivers of my soul.

Wishing I could give

Everything you deserve.

Watching every move

Fighting for thou love.

Do you love me?

Or is this a sham?

Be this a dream,

And let me never wake.

She stared.

The balloon stared back.

The poem was written in red ink on the white rubber. Riza smiled, on the bottom there was a somewhat crude drawing of a hawk.

So it was for her.

When did he become so sweet, so lyrical? Not that she would mind him being more thoughtful.

Lately there had been notes and poems everywhere, on balloons and boxes and all kinds of things.

Mentally she congratulated herself.

After all, accusing your lover of being unromantic had its payoffs.

Gently the lieutenant untied the string, and, lighthearted, went inside to thank Roy.