The sky outside is full of stars But where I see the street light fall I think I see, and long for, snow. The blank white page feels soft to touch. I want to scrape a picture from my mind:
I gave birth to a baby child, It was beautiful. Then I slept And when I woke it was dead. I knew I was dreaming So I went back And made it all ok: I started the dream again.
So we are to have no epic romance, you and I. There will be no snow storms and no raging war. Just your inability to make up your mind And my inability to turn away.
We may be, for one and other, The net that holds, The net that binds, And through this is our power. We hold the butterfly, That flaps and beats, And as we tremble, we love.
There is no way to begin again. No direction without this point: Without a stationary car in the rain at night And all that was unspoken Weaved in amongst the music played