I hang on his every word
Like a wriggling worm From the beak of lovely bird

He's the safe I'll never crack
The elusive dancer covered in black

He terrifies and confounds me
And I don't even think he see's

He is the closed book that I can never open
All the words I wish to say but can't be spoken

He's the poem, that I can never write
For me, he's the moon glowing at night

My closed book, who's stories I'll never know
Because I'm the desert, and he's the snow