Lady Wind, through rustling leaves,
where she doth blow, they go...
Love's like oxygen
It does not have to be pure...
What is love?
A strong feeling of fondness...
It's hard to stand up again,
Little woman and no man...
Few would understand this story
Of how uncomfortable the cold Autumn...
I live the truthfulness of love wherein,
And draw in precious breath as breath is drawn...
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Maybe finding someone to share everything with is not the point. |
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I needed you like the desert needs rain, to fill the cracks on the surface and nourish the deep soil. |
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I am not a stranger |