You spin the earth with your feet when you’re dancing on the ground. Loose bits of dirt kick out, break up the cliffs and tumble down. You sweep up dust and it spirals high, it blocks the moon and it blocks the tides, and the world is darkened and the waters rise. This is what I saw when you told me to look in your eyes.
You lit up a candle, you took it out into the yard. You raised it, compared it to the fire of the blazing stars. And you spun in circles on a floor of leaves, you lit the clouds and then you lit the trees, and you raised your arms as if to wave goodbye. This is what I saw when you told me to look in your eyes.
You sat up past midnight, you waited for the sound of my car. You walked down the driveway, you pulled me close into your arms. Then you took my hands and I held on tight, I said I loved you, we began to rise, then we soared forever through the invisible sky. This is what I saw when you told me to look in your eyes.