Sometimes it's perfect being the only one awake
to hear hushed murmuring memories,
playing like music, melodious in honeyed air,
plucking streams of cobweb strings
while I kiss the wind with all that's left
of the breath you didn't take from me yet.
Sometimes when that same sung breeze reaches my cheek,
I stop fighting my feet, and let them take me somewhere,
'til tears drip down my eyelashes like rain,
and I start to feel better,
finding there is something so deliciously sweet
about loving you on a night like this night.
[I watched this video by one of my favorite comedic teams, Garfunkel and Oates, and it put me in the mood for metaphor: Garfunkel and Oates ]
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