i know there are bigger things than me -
                                                  your music and your art
  but the way our eyes catch across the room?
that's big too.

                                                            and i know i'll write stories for you someday,
                                                                               and you'll pick out a song with my name,
                                                                           when your hands have nothing else to do
                                                                       (your restless musician fingers
                                                                                and my writer's ones always searching for something)

and i know i don't abuse your substance of choice,
                                                                                             but my substance of choice is you
                                      (and they said you quit,
                                       and i wonder if it was for me)

                                                         and even so -
               the way our eyes catch across the room?
that has substance too.