Search inside the window of my soulwithout placing the turpentinethat removesthe bright colors of meand love me, like this…like an artist lovesthe strokes of paintbrushing slowly on a canvas.Listen, but with your heartnot your earsbecause love is like the wind-felt but not touched,blowing in and out from us.It simply is everythingwithout expecting anythingbut a beautiful compositionthat comes from the mysterious.Touch me but without hypocrisy,without ill-mannered wordsthat get caught in deception --you are more than that.Kiss me,grab me tightly,but not so much like a possessionsqueezing me like a doll.Place your hand over my heart,notice my rhythmand try to follow it.Love me, like love is meant to be,with compassionand faith leading the wayto wherever Spirit resides.