Under this umbrella, lie all the stars
Hold out your palm to the open skies
Pins and needles, nay, gallons of pain
Twists and turns, and a wrenching of hearts
All will be well with this blue print of love
When my fingertips write on your naked wrist
All will be well with poets and songs
Once you reclaim our nook from those books
Love asked me if I believe and I laughed once
And then stripped of skin and again of blood
I write these tales of white truth, dark lies
On pages and pages of unfounded myths
That in all those people I ever was to love
Was hidden a mirror, an endless nadir
Again and again with hope, with despair
I search in your eyes, that staircase to stars
