I will love you as though my breath is connected to it
You are the disk jockey that mixes my heart beat
The skies will always be blue here
You have made me to love amidst fears..
...
Split the Lark—and you'll find the Music—
Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled—
Scantilly dealt to the Summer Morning
Saved for your Ear when Lutes be old.