As I sighed over the dusty photographs,
Of the storm that passed,
You called love,
The headphone was singing songs of yearning,
Our clothes still wet
From that day,
For the misty breeze from the bay didn’t let it dry,
And words dried up, the music retained,
Of chandeliers and little stars,
That you chose over
The dance that lit them up,
The idea harnessed,
Hurt by my eagerness to explore,
How could you be so quiet?
Like fallen leaves...
Of poetry,
And you gave me more than I could take,
I desired yet more
... More of you...