I'm chasing myself through the eyes of a woman,
And she is a beauty I'm beginning to understand.
Born of cool temperament and change,
She's a storm of transition that shakes my foundation.
Collected moments, all of them graces.
Part of a better play for the savor of an instance, where I meet a force equating my own.
Fall on me to do these things. Fall on you to breach this man. But I am breached, and you are broken open,
And we are something like the lost and found bin,
Where things go to end their place with others.
I am wandering stillness, and you are ready, I think, for giving to new adventure, but you are slow like honey, cascading over me sweetly, but shyly,
And your soft heart isn't quite prepared to fall completely.
It is not easy being open.
It is quite uncommon to allow the deep to take its measure.
What crashing things with soft bodies and consequences.