Not a word I am saying,
not a sound I am making.
Only thoughts in my mind -
like wild horses straying.
But the sound in your company,
as though exactly my identity.
Your stinging guitar tones -
are my lost thoughts.
Your floating verses -
are my returning dreams.
In this darkness -
effortlessly; I seem to rise.
Sleeping in your arms is easy -
while you carry me up this stairway.
