this year has been a cavalcade of everything I've done
but at the end of every day you've always been my sun
the light I rise to even when my body barely moves
the aromatic summertime that permeates my room
your seventh ring is forming now, we'll see it this July
the two and three two thousand ten turned water into wine
I drink without a second thought from hands that may be small
for they surrender whole in heart, your everything, your all