It’s what you don’t know
That she wants you to learn.
Her eyes as open as new sunlight
yet as dark as dusk because it’s all that tricky,
what you need to learn to forget
The weight of resistance.
It’s the moment a flatpicker’s bluegrass riff makes sense,
When the singers on Beethoven’s Ninth bursts
into the full chorus and you feel the world open
joyously, happily, mysteriously
and she pulls you in with a look and a touch and
you finally fall.
