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Scott
Without You
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I shall become a delicate draught of air
and caress you; and I shall be ripples
in the water when you bathe;
and kiss you and kiss you again.

In the gusty night
when the rain patters on the leaves
you will hear my whisper in your bed,
and my laughter will flashwith the lightning
through the open window into your room.

On the straying moonbeams
I shall steal over your bed,
and lie upon your bosom while you sleep.

I shall become a dream,
and through the little opening of your eyelids
I shall slip into the depths of your sleep;
and when you wake up and look round startled,
like a twinkling firefly
I shall flit out into the darkness.
'The Crescent Moon' by Tagore

You are the person to visit

Article on Oakland in the Dallas Observer

Thanks to Theme World for the font Manuscript