If you are a dandelion,
I will whistle your skin until
my cheeks turn purple,
so each part of you
can know what flying feels like.

If you are a book,
I will scribble my name
in your margins, over and over
on every page, so you know
I will always be in your side-lines.

If you are a sunflower,
I will hold you high
above my head so
your mother can see you bloom.

If you are a storm,
I will dad-dance
in every salted drop of you.

If you are scared,
I will remind you
the beating you hear in your chest
means your mind is alive.

If you are listening,
send me a feather
from the smoothest star
so I can hold your soft.

by Alex Scott