I want to be famous to you
the way that you’re famous to me:
simple and beautiful, calm and complete,
and as deep as the strength of the ocean.

I want to be famous to you,
not under spotlights and guises,
not draped with dresses for cameras to light,
just close when the morning sun rises.

I want to be famous to you
on long walks through the evening;
on warm afternoons in the heat of the sun;
in snowfall ‘neath the winter’s soft breathing.

I want to be famous to you
because you are famous to me—
more famous than starlight, or silver, or gold;
more famous than you could ever make me.