Ignore the clouds. There are butterflies here. And murmurs of piano. Fingers dug in the soil of our bliss. I loved you then. I love you now. And now, when you open eyes to the blue beyond, to the white bubbles that ring joy to the cosmos, this is where you'll hear me. This is the dream of our other life, the one where I reach out and feel you pull me close. Touching light. Touching branches. Wander away. Wander to what stills the fear. There is no fear here. Only adoration. Only a simple respite. For you and I to rest. For us to lament the days we died gloating. Those are gone. What remains: bells, kisses, light wisps of a spring breeze. Shut your eyes. And hear brilliance unbound.