Saturday, June 13, 2009
This could happen to us if we let it.
This could happen to us if we let it. We could be the only love song playing on the radio. You could be every line of poetry I have ever tried to write and I will be the only piece of music you’ll ever compose. We could melt together into the frost and snow. We could be that honest. We could be that pure. We could be a part of everything around us and inside of us. I could be the only glove to ever fit your hand and you can be the only book I’ll ever finish reading. We could let this happen over night. It doesn’t have to be a dream. I will be every color you’ll ever need to paint your Sistine Chapel. You can be my light at the end of the tunnel. I will play your violin. I will dance upon your table top. You can be the only person in the audience. And we can listen to the smokey lullaby of a saxophone playing in the distant Northern sky.