Can life be but spring dresses and pomegranates on my lips?
A slight scent of roses and honey?
A simple breeze?
Can skin be soft and flawless, and soaking in the glow of the April sun?
Can I wander alone? or perhaps... with you?
Then a constant showering, where the sky turns dark and the flowers grow.
Let's stay inside, veil the windows, watch the lightning.
The sheets are warm, and so am I - safe in your arms.
It's merely a concept of being content, a concept to consider.
And with the sun, the spring dress goes on.
A blanket in a meadow.
And you.