Blue like the sky when the breeze sings in summer,
Bright like the sun on the top of the ocean;
Your eyes, like mine, are small
But infinitely more striking.
The plaid of the couch, full of knotting and seams,
Has padding that's long since been so worn out,
But because it is old
Does not mean it's not perfect.
We sink deeper inside of the sofa, dissolved
We let it envelop us, swallow us down
I do not know this tune,
But it is one you love so well,
And then we whisper the mysteries of sound, as elusive
As all the warm golden rays that touch our every corner.
You dwell on my murmurs,
Your secrets, held in my hands.
You're a dream I relive in the dark when
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