I dreamt once of your ever changing face
And a love I could never hold on to
The receding tide became a holy place
And swept from the sand an image of you

A moon rose high and gave me strength
But sadly I could not see it
I fought endlessly but couldn’t go the length
Perfection, I could never be it

I see you as a canvas, but it is not my art
You shape your own identity far away from mine
I’d like to believe though that I was some vital part
A quilt woven with thread, a wall wrapped in vine

I could not be the anchor, I could not be the stone
Now I lie here sinking in a dream I call my own
The last I saw was the back of your ship begin to fade
And with it you took every dream I had ever made.