Sparks

I'm dreaming in ways that I don't understand
Sometimes it's your lips, sometimes it's your hands.
They're running me over with passion and want
Breathing so hard I can't form the word stop.
As you call me these things I don't see in myself.
A beauty, a spark that I put on the shelf.
I don't know your face, or your name or your voice.
But I think when I meet you, I'll fall without choice.
I'm dreaming in ways that I don't understand.
And I try not to wake up as hard as I can.


lennie.