Doves Don'T Cry
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
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