You call to me from your bedsheets,say you’d rather see me dead than to see me with another girl,butterflies whirl,and in the middle of the night,when I dance through your dreams,your name is smeared across my lips in stardust. Starstruck.

You inspired me with a soulful performance of vulnerability,something sent to be seen by my eyes, and my eyes alone,true blue truth from my brown eyed belle,a single tear traces down your clear skin as you clutch me in your embrace,Glenn Miller filling the air,afraid I will run, again. Your fear is not unfounded,but I’ve…