And sometimes I think I’m only me when I’m with you.
We used to get lost on that couch like one big heart
flooding with the peace from a simple feathered dove
where one day I realized I loved the soul I saw in your eyes


the hurt your lips made real
and all the feeling I saw in between

Now I wonder if we’ll ever go back to that place between
friendship’s drive and uncertainty’s lane where I found you
with affection and tenderness in your hugs that were ever so real
that confirmed my hunch you had a perfectly good heart
and beautiful, reflective, sorrowful eyes
that gave your face a soft quality like a morning dove

sometimes I wonder where that dove
might have gone, but on days like Friday, Sunday, and the day in between
when we talk I remember how I loved those innocent eyes
that paled the stars whenever they were near you
and this could almost be like a song for your heart
but instead it’s a sestina with the real

dreams I have that make the past come alive, real
like the softness of the look of a dove
and the shared piece of our heart
and the realities that lay between
the past, the present, and what could become of me and you
if only you’d see what I do in yours; honey look into my eyes

I promise like in your own big brown eyes
you’ll see longing that’s real
plus a fantasy again that I want to share with you
because I want that relationship like a dove
so let nothing come in between
the abundance of heart

I’ve found in you and whatever you see in my own hopeful heart
hidden in the depths of the dark eyes
my face put in between
two ears for hearing the words I never doubted were real
because I wanted them to be, your words were their own pinkish dove
with the serenity to represent you

and all that you kept in that beautiful emotion enticer I’ve come to call your heart
and the love of a dove I saw in your blissful eyes;
and passion that’s real when I say I’ve fallen head over heels and all in between.