I have heard too much, my love. I have listened to verses plucked shamelessly on strings which were once mine. The beginnings of melody were given to me, all that was unsung lusted my voice, chaos found culture in my mind. I imagined a Coruscating Cosmos. Every vision had a wing, each thought had a tune. When the wind blew and the chimes jingled, a new book opened to give the lovelorn what he needed Promises, Hopes and Dreams. And he came to me, he came to me every starstruck night With questions on his pensive face like carvings in stone, craving decipherment. I countered each promise, each hope, each dream with the songs hidden in keys and strings Until I became them. I could believe now, that my words were reminiscences of your endearment My cosmos was resting on your body. Together, we tried to create melody. I had scars on my fingers from forcing it to take birth, I h...