The skies are her love I guess... but I am the earth at love... with her tender feet
I could only let her free | A simple thought | 'about her' | And 'she 'existed' like wind in a merry morning...
The flow about her... | The touch of her memory... | The sunshine of laughter forgotten for a beautiful rain... | Without her there was no pain in my heart Empty I would have died in the stillness of myself.
