Oh love, you come in a better disguise
this time. Let me tell you now that
you've improved both in loveliness
and in material impossibility.
For all I'm concerned, this has been
your finest hour, which coincides
with my weakest and darkest,
not related to your coming (you insist),
but I know better. And even when I know
what you'll do, I was hoping to see you
again. And this is already going wrong.
For those of us who, foolishly, are still
looking for the happily ever after,
it is always a walk in the park under
gray skies and falling leaves to have you
back, love. There will always be a space
for you to fill in this heart. If only
you could stay still for a second.

But wait a second; no, not you.
Wait a second longer; yes, me.
Weren't you just about to fall sleep?
Wait a second. You're not loosing her.
Hold the tear in, close your eyes and
drift away. There she'll be too,
in the dream, waiting in a better disguise.
And this time it'll maybe be real.