I had my eyes closed and my arms outstretched
to a vision of her in the dark.
She was gone by the time I reached her.
There is a note that plays on an old slide guitar every time she leaves me
and when I am alone after that I think first of her hair,
second of her hands,
third of her quiet breath on my back in the middle of the night.
With a soft brush I stroked a steady line of light onto a black canvas and it was her.
During the small moment when she opens the front door and I first look at her face,
I am aware of something of profound importance
but right now I'm not sure what it is.
I want to breathe a strong gust of peace into her so she feels it low in her chest
and I want to watch her eyes open to a world that's simple,
that loves her.
There is such a thing as torment
And yet there is such as thing as her arms around me,
her hands on my back, and
I wonder if she knows that when she kissed me I felt a new meaning to the word
Home.
I didn't know it was possible for her to look at me that way, so
I want to call her Sweetheart
because her heart is a sweet place
where I found something that was mine before I had to ask for it.

Let me know when it's alright for me to love you
Because the next time I see you, baby I'm going to take you
Home.