this isn't for anyone.

The beating of your heart used to be my muse,
And the flickering lights in your eyes were my ink,
Your breath in the winter air was my paper,
I would write it all down,
Perfect prose,
Rythmic rhymes,
And you held my hands,
And we sang all the words by heart,

Your voice used to be my music,
And those times you cried were the sad songs,
The sound of your voice were the happy ones,
The songs sung in time with the music,
With cleverest of composition,
With a steady beat,
And we held each other,
And we danced all the way to the end.

Stillness is my muse,
And tears are my music,
I'll write new words for you,
Poetic and perfect,
Beautifully becoming,
And I'll sing all the words by heart,
And I'll dance all the way to the end.