• A thousand fair suitors all stab at your heart
    Those poets of movement and jockeys of art
    The high-volume vendors who hustle romance
    Splashing their canvas with color and dance

    The blasters of trumpets, gold banners unfurled
    They offer lush gardens in glistening worlds
    Yes, bearers of torches and carvers of stone
    Who whisper their sonnets and surrender their thrones

    And there in your doorway, no shadow is cast
    No lingering voices, no ghosts from the past
    Just a cluster of walls, and a window of pain
    Collecting the heartache like droplets of rain

    Still I stand before you, with palms to the sky
    No gold in my pocket, no thorn in my side
    And all I can offer, where words have no place
    Is a body that trembles, and this love that awaits