oh how the rain sounds as loud as a lover’s words
and now and again she’s afraid when the sun returns


you’re a poem of mystery
you’re the prayer inside me
spoken words like moonlight
you’re the voice that i like
needlework & seedlings
in the way you’re walking
to me from the timbers
faded from the winter


Love is a fragile word
In the air on the length we lay

No hands are half as gentle
Or firm as they like to be
Thank God you see me the way you do
Strange as you are to me


Sometimes I’ll hear her when she’s sleeping
Her fever dream
A language on her face



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