I want to trace you like the winds trace falling leaves. I want to collect on your fingertips like so many drops of rain; staining them with a pigment only you and I can understand. I’d like to taste the thoughts that stream across the pavement as you walk, leaving prints of pain and frailty in your wake. And I need the silence of your dreaming as I try to stop myself from pleading, as I try to keep my heart from bleeding out this ardor I’ve inside.
I want to trace you like the winds trace falling leaves.