I would be the wind beneath you and fly you home to my waiting arms…
I see you there,
collapsed in ivory stillness,
your flesh,
a winter sea,
your eyes,
shadow fields.
Oh, if only I could wake you from that endless, eternal, dream.
I would bathe you in spun summer gold,
make you warm and alive,
take the colored ribbons from my eyes
and make you see again.
I would step aboard that crewless ship
and take your place amongst the garden of woven silver stars.
Oh, where have you flown,
my wingless dove?
If only I were the wind beneath you
I would gently carry you home…
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