I know it must all be perfect, and I know it won't, I won't, you won't. The high notes of Beethoven or possibly Abheri ought to fill me with feeling, but my gut only turns with vague distaste. Whats mine is yours now, and always.
Someday you can judge for yourself what your true sound will be, what depth and motion, feeling and silence, really mean to you.
For now, move with me. In complex sidesteps with REM and Coldplay, gently derisive on Dire Straits, lonely with Suzanne Vega, and wildly furious with Metallica and Rammstein, take these breaths with mine, double them as you will, now, soon, your own time will come.
And yet, someways in the future, somedays, your irregular shape and mine shall join shadows and be, just like today, close and inseperable, and others, we will move ten paces apart and shoot.
We will not agree often, my aged heart will never quite match the speed of your quick new, but I hope we will deal as equals, with respect and agreement of our arcana.
I don't know what is your symbol or signature, but I know I must impose my will for now. When comes the painful day of your own mind, I hope I can be graceful with my hands, and I hope we will have taught you the science and art of flight well.
The fear is now receding, I can already feel the heaven and hell incumbent with you. Thank you for giving me this time, I know merely the experience is a privilege. I promise never to make you my one true love, or my only reason to live. I also promise to love you very much
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