| And you are no longer a river to me
|
| And you are no longer a river to me
|
| Though your coursing remain eager to acquaint me
|
| And you are no longer a docile stream
|
| And you are no longer a docile stream
|
| Though your patience proves you into ease
|
| And once this spark met kindling
|
| Forgets its gentle ambling
|
| Becoming heat, becoming steam
|
| Becoming luminescent glee
|
| Atoms splinter, sparkling
|
| Alive and nimble symmetry
|
| And all along, this glistening
|
| Blankets we and everything
|
| Shadows dance triumphantly
|
| A wordless whisper sighs and pleas
|
| Little deaths envelope thee
|
| You and I and a flame make three
|
| You and I and a flame make three
|
| You and I and a flame make three
|
| And you are not glassy bay to me
|
| And you are not glassy bay to me
|
| Though my tired fleet abides in your gentle breeze
|
| And you are now vast and open sea
|
| And my mind travels you endlessly
|
| And you beckon, toss and toss and swallow me
|
| You and I and a flame makes three
|
| You and I and a flame make three |