At Full Height

If he don't mean it, he won't say it, and I can tell.

If I don't mean it, I won't say it, and his face fell.

But it's so seldom I believe it – it takes a clear kind of day.

Like air so cold it hurts to breathe it.

And the colour comes to my face.

And I don't tell my mother, I don't tell my sister,

Something so tender I'd rather not speak it,

Even when I know it – that he's mine.

Woke up thirsty, lost in memory, coming in swells.

And dreams stay with me, long into morning, strange wells.

I've been free, but I've known not freedom – like a kite.

It was a glimpse, but I did see him: at full height.

And I left it all unspoken and free;

In the coming and the going, knowing not what he means.

And I don't even know him – but he's mine.