Follow me home, inside, out, and underneath your nose I will leave a trail of teabags tied to notes. I will leave some cherries with songs inside of all the times I'd like to touch your hand and look at pictures of when your hair was short and your skin was clouded and your dreams were bigger than a two tonne truck and you couldn't fit them in your small head. Your pictures of your small head and big shoulders and pictures of the outfits your Mum made from terry towelling. I don't recall I've ever been in love, but if I had it would be with you- 5 years old and brave in your terry towelling.
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