Are you my kiss behind a studio door?
My costar in our own little story,
Whispered between the rest of them
As we sneak away into the bright city chill
Just after mid-morning,
The very highest of the Sun
Are you the radio tuned to the perfect distraction?
I know music rushes in rivers beneath you
Swelling,
It collects in the windows of your vision
Aquamarine, polished,
Are they hard enough to deliciously shatter my heart?
Is it me with whom your growing vines bloom into,
As we play different parts?
I’d leave it where it all began,
Once the end has come  
Alone, on a glossy wooden floor
I’d trust you with my secret
If it was also yours