He stretches his neck towards his own sunshine,
exposing, proposing his eyes be dried,
needing only himself and his water’s tide
rocking him gently through his own night’s time.
And in and under his carapace
he stores the secrets of his ways,
saving them for another day
keeping content- though lone he lay.
Any sorrows he has stay buried, small in his shell;
there’s no one to listen so no one he tells.
He hides it all and hopes all will be well,
he hides it all, and all is well.

Your fingers graze the keys in the same way they do me;
softly sliding, traveling, tapping down
the length of my body.
But when you touch so gracefully- playing as you look at me-
all I hear are the sounds and singing
of a bittersweet melody.

You hand, it cups my cheek, as your fingers first touch the keys;
a song faint in its volume but strong in its presence and
surely starting warmly.
The first verse begins as your fingers trace my lips
and from the first note you played I knew I would stay and
I'm lost now in your music.

But as you go on a few wrong notes slip in our song
and you stop then right where you are.

And this break in your rhythm
reminds me-
our song is not yet perfect...
But you play on and I know
we're not far.

So this tune you keep playing and to your lyrics I'll listen,
though I hope you'll rewrite them with time,
so that when you play on my body and sing to me fondly
I can finally call your song mine.

But as I'm waiting, please love, keep playing;
know that I'm sure, I am
staying.

Always I want to be with you
tangled up in a world for two;
one where we can lie on limbs amongst leaves
where your worries and mine couldn't climb the trees.
Our world would be one lived at such great heights,
all that could harm us would bark with no bite.
And our darkest of moments would be just that of night
with still the stars as our ceiling and each other's eyes for a light.

And here in these trees we would have all that we need;
my comfort in you and yours, in me.
And think how content we would keep in our canopy
with our bodies pressed together, puzzle-piece-perfectly,
where even in the thickest of rains
our arms wrapped tightly would remain the same.
And when that rain would turn in to the wildest of storms,
only to come closer would we change our form.

We would live and we'd love holding on without stop,
we would rock- and you'd call me baby- in our own tree top.
We would sleep as we please and wake with no haste,
having only the time to get there as time to waste.
So I'll go and I'll wait, rather eagerly for you
to join me there in our world for two.
One made with you, and only you, in mind.
One where you would always and only be mine.