Carry me back to some golden day where only he remained. Silver guitar in the Los Angeles sun. The night infused by rain drifted us to sleep. We inspired each other, I wrote books and you played music. Wearing sunglasses and laughing to our favorite songs. Lovers are always in motion- the morning is their friend, the nighttime their captive.

There were nine muses, according to greek mythology. You're the Euterpe to my Erato. I held a rose while you sang for everyone. You'll see it someday. They never wanted to believe it, but you did as much for me as I did for you.

I'd probably fall for you again.