Standing atop the parking garage, overlooking the city,
the sea of lights below is beautiful, but can't hold a candle to
the freckles on your body.
The red strings of fate that led us here in the first place,
like the red strands of your hair that bring me back
that I'm finding on my bedroom floor, in memories, and photographs.
Did you feel the same as we sang on our way up the mountain?
Dancing lakeside to By Surprise, fountain splashing in 3/4 time,
clicking cameras at the bright lights,
but the pictures never turn out right.