If only always meant more
we could overcome our circumstance,
to coalesce ardor with caprice
the best of me intervolves the best of you
a ribbon in the sky only we can view
til death do us part and recycles anew
a world remade from hushed moments we construe
sweet dreams made from scratch, leavened by chance
as the music fades, still, we would dance
if only always meant more.
An invented form by a talented poet on another site.