These feelings I carry are mine,
but they do not belong to me...
When I compare my frame to other men:
I weep, and mirror's glass weeps for me too...
Listening to the delicate murmur of your heart
that echoes without words...
Tho' I've no 'scope to witness distant spheres
Nor fortune, bribing way to travel space...
Fridays at work are always good
And goes quickly like it should...
The sunray is magnificently sweet
Like a Ponkan dew beneath your teeth...
I fear not death, but death without rebirth;
For how I'll doubly miss the southern spring...
Love is infatuation when you are in love with
someone new your heart skips a beat for someone...
Love is a journey with two lovers as each
step I take will take me to my destination...
I am awake much earlier than her
As my eyes try to adjust in the night...
Should I inform these pages of our bed?
Could words have words for what is most unsaid...
She loved her high-heeled shoes, she was
cheeky, she had style, she would be dressed...