Her Honeyed Song
She comes to sing for bread and breath,
In a pathway by his window.
Time too is stopping this morning
With a longing to hear her voice.
She tiptoes, then stops, then tiptoes
Until she reaches the window.
Song in her mouth, guitar on her
Hand with fingers fixed on the cords,
But no song can come out because
Her lyrics get lost in his eyes.
She tries to draw back, but is drawn
Forth by that force the rose best knows.
So she stands and longs for his heart,
And spells his name on her guitar.
Then a new song fills her lips,
His heartbeat guiding the rhythm.
The lyric painting his portrait,
And the cords pulling him nearer.
He leaves the window and walks down,
Smiling, showing his thirty-two
Till he stands by her gentle side.
She keeps singing, inundating
Him with her soft honeyed voice.
He joins her, they sing and sing.
But when he turns to say a word,
She quietly walks away
Because she knows their skies are
Parallel to each other.
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