His voice, like light during the night,
chirps with faultless smile and word.
As my head dead on my ancient pillow
wishes for slumber, his smile and word,
like a stone thrown into a pond,
causes ripples of delight in the brain
of my dead head. So soon, my voice,
like light during the night, I hear smile and word
with him. Then, our chirps churn
the light that surrounds us, which begins a
melodious myriad of harmonies, and we
hold magic in our hands. I call for him so
soft, he hugs me bear, and then darkness takes its turn.