Endless Love

Meet me under the sycamore tree
We’ll find the initials we carved so many years ago.
I’ll let you hold my hand
While we sit and gaze at the stars.
When I see a shooting star
I’ll make a wish that probably won’t come true
Because they never do.
When the crickets chirp their nighttime symphony
I’ll let you kiss me.
Just like you used to.

But better.