Is it thy will thy image should keep open
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
Is it thy spirit that thou send’st from thee
So far from home into my deeds to pry,
To find out shames and idle hours in me,
The scope and tenure of thy jealousy?
O, no, thy love, though much, is not so great;
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,
Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
To play the watchman ever for thy sake.
    For thee watch I whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
    From me far off, with others all too near.

Do I cross your mind
From time to time
Is it some stupid joke I told
Or a smell in the wind
For me
It's a dream keeping me up at night
As real and constant as your laugh
Although I feel thoughts of you with a pang of guilt
Wondering how I Should actually feel
We fall so easily for new faces
But it is more
It's brushing past one another
And deep silent looks
Sharing stories like childhood books
This seems almost too cliche
Maybe it doesn't exist
Except in dreams

I think I'm falling for you,
And now I think you know,
But I don't think we know,
What that truly means for us,
I feel that now I can love again,
But I can't see myself with anyone but you,
This isn't  going to end well,
That I know for sure,
But thats what happens,
When friendships on the line.

The fight was long and drenched in pain,
Your strength was put to test.
You feared the grief would never end,
But now, my dear, come rest.

My soul lives in my body’s house,
And you have both the house and her—
But sometimes she is less your own
Than a wild, gay adventurer;
A restless and an eager wraith,
How can I tell what she will do—
Oh, I am sure of my body’s faith,
But what if my soul broke faith with you?

When I talk with other men
I always think of you—
Your words are keener than their words,
And they are gentler, too.

When I look at other men,
I wish your face were there,
With its gray eyes and dark skin
And tossed black hair.

When I think of other men,
Dreaming alone by day,
The thought of you like a strong wind
Blows the dreams away.

People that I meet and pass
In the city’s broken roar,
Faces that I lose so soon
And have never found before,

Do you know how much you tell
In the meeting of our eyes,
How ashamed I am, and sad
To have pierced your poor disguise?

Secrets rushing without sound
Crying from your hiding places —
Let me go, I cannot bear
The sorrow of the passing faces.

— People in the restless street,
Can it be, oh can it be
In the meeting of our eyes
That you know as much of me?