You are the trip i did not take;
you are the things i could not buy;
you are my blue italian lake;
you are my piece of foreign sky.
you are my honolulu moon;
you are the book i did not write;
you are my heart’s unuttered tune;
you are a candle in my night.
you are the flower beneath the snow,
in my dark sky a bit of blue,
answering disappointment’s blow,
with “I am happy! I have you!”