Lyric-less songs— canvases for my vivid thoughts
With every crescendo, I sculpt a part of you

I see my eyes in yours, but I don’t recognize your face
I lean in, your lips on mine, you taste strangely familiar
Our hands intertwine before your silhouette  inevitably pulls away

Into my realization of this fiction
I wait eagerly for the next song to play

I long for something real, my heart will wait out this storm
It rains in every season, but I dreamt of autumn leaves
            f a l l i n g      
                              on the day I meet you.