Sweet spring air,
Do whisper deceit,
My love,
Oh love,
Come back to me.
Some call to floaters
Apparitions of the eye
Blinding me
Oh, do come back
The flashing light
do tell me, you
have gone arry,
Why?
Gentle chill, make your way
down this spine
Like painting a picture
Each stroke,
A low-pressured finger
Dissentegrated, your face
Speak to me,
My love,
Oh love,
I’ve been waiting.