I wonder-- does the coffee stay in your hands?
Let me wash them for you-- I can be as gentle as your voice
As dark as your hair-- as warm as your smile
When you dream, what do you see?
Is there a kite with my name on it flying in your sleeping sky?
Are we two little girls running, chasing a balloon?
When I hold your hand now, is it like we held hands then?
Take me walking-- show me where you grew up,
Or have you grown up?
Because I've watched the way your hands move when you smile
The way your eyes narrow to a laugh, your shoulders shaking
The way your eyes meet mine to say hello
Dallas, Texas, October 1997