I think of you and see the sky
The sun at which I'll always fly
I look at you and see my skin
You're where I end and then begin
I hear your voice and move my tongue
When I breathe in I fill your lungs
And if you were to start anew
I'd wake one day and I'd be you
All there is and all I'll be
Is standing right in front of me
I cry tonight under the stars
The crescent moon is what we are.
It's not a perfect metaphor.