The Way Home
There's a warmth in this cold, anticipation ringing clear, our future glistening on tips of melting buds: a rustling urgency, a fanning love; and beneath it all there's you: your heart wildly beating in candace with mine, drumming the vibrations of all I see, driving the motions for all I do: Nothing ever been this clear before, so ripe ready and restless: We're bursting with the linear nature of time; It's not long until you'll be infinitely mine.