Dreams become simpler as we age
Once I wanted a million stars
In my hands, twinkling forever
Now you lay your head in my lap
And fall asleep before me
As I write variations of our story
Maybe one day people will read
It’ll bring them a peace
When the skies are stormy
He owed it to her to watch all the way through.
Sometimes love is wild and passionate
Sometimes it’s sweet and slow
Sometimes it’s letting you sleep
And guarding your sweet repose
The first humans killed with their hands. The last will, too.