all we are is words on paper
dreams in slumber and dreams in daylight
the chances that you could also be writing me
from across the globe
are thin as this here paper

why do i write to you?
why does your voice follow me in my dreams?
last night i dreamt of us conversing for hours
your creaky voice is burned into my minds ear
it squeaks to me in rapid eye movement murmurs  
why do i write to you?

if there is power in attraction
in this universe
then my naive ego believes i could will you to me
like demanding the tide come
i could pull you upon my shore