She only wants to be loved

She shouldn't ever have to say to me
“just be nice to me”
When her eyes have never lied to me

Her apartment smells of old books
like a cave to hide from the rain
She will only open the windows at sunrise
and then again to gaze the moon

She's a master of herself
Her solitude lacks loneliness

She will always be above that what is below her
If she ever lets you close enough to know her

allow yourself to be loved
allow yourself to love

Conditions are without tenderness
Nobody’s below
Nobody’s above

She has escalated me to be
Soaring above yesterday

I have often thought to myself how I could have missed it all,
but who knows maybe that's because I have already been absent in the theory of tomorrow.