An Afterword
If you would let me hold you,
The nights would never be this cold.
If morning has it's romance
and midday has demands,
If I could rest my head foever
in these fragile hands.
If evening has it's moments.
If you could keep a secret
for me,
Then I can tell you things
that you'd not believe.
If I could write a letter
and sign it with your blood
and send it with the truest of intentions
my love.
If breathing was this easy,
then tensions would be lost
to hold a conversation
with the voice that cuts so soft.
If breathing was this easy.
