My words are the titles to The stories my lips will tell The dew that settles gently Between my hand and your cheek When we two parted, in death Hands parted for the first time My gentle fingers tracing Turned to wings but kept embracing The final door we walked through, On the other side we flew Twisting through the vines and leaves The love of doves transcends trees Once a human serenade, My attraction turned instinct I needn't hands or words, too, My heart, soar the skies with you