there is no ode to noone. i am the magic. it springs off my head like Bernini fountains speaking of shiny coins and water...always glowing. and how i want to... pour myself over...your flesh inches, your blue blue eyes, your hands...
come up to meet you, tell you i'm sorry, you don't know how lovely you are
such a sweet gift but always on the wrong occasion. i'll live on the hint, breathe it in when i'm feeling low, hold tight the possibility and remember who turned my insides on.