There is a space, my love
A space I’ve saved for you.
A space I wouldn’t allow
a soul of another hue.
A space I’d like to call my own,
a space for kings without a throne,
for damsels with a heart of gold,
for stories that are left untold.
Unlike the other spaces,
ugly and wary and many:
ripping smiles off of faces,
yielding a grief so heavy.
This space has room enough for you,
your fragile eyes, your heart of blue.
A sip of wine can’t calm your mood,
T’is space of mine would do you good.
Your love, my heart, it calls upon,
It tastes just like sweet cinnamon.
Let time be fair and pain begone,
T’is space of mine is yours hereon!