Without you life would be parched,
Bleached and soaked out of color and substance.
My steps would echo
Back against metal walls
Instead of being absorbed by your heart.
Calendars would be too thick
And each wait too long-
My life will be my own
Cramped surrounded by mirrors
Throwing back a thousand mes.
How tired my arms would get
Just hitting the ball against a back board.
Many memories will be stabbing
For life with you has been a constant spring.