You were a fourth born, snow-born, breeze
Wild as the first sight of a western scene
And I was surprised, by the furious snow
As I didn’t expect you so early that Fall

You make me want to tell stories.

With such fluidity,
such grace,
my words are dancers
spinning in space.
They're airy
and light
floating on by.
No weight to them
at all.
Follow the path
I lead you on
and don't ever stray.
My words are
pretty
and
meant
to
distract
you from pain.

You make me want to tell stories.

I feel happy the more I look at you,
But while looking at you,
I also receive pain times two,
Because I remember that I can't have you.

As long as I am happy to see you,
I don't care how many knives will cut through.
I don't care if I'm not the reason for that smile of yours,
As long as I see that it is yours,
It will still be the greatest view.