the lost art of love

i can save tears for a rainy day, but what good would it do
if sunshine is not my friend?

i can waste my time away, but would it matter to you
if my moment begins where yours end?

do you think you can fly?
do you think you can cry?
do you think that all memories are ones that are alive?

like the lost art of love that keeps us in search
for the ones that we think we need til that need makes us hurt

the ancient unspoken words of desire
the glow of a heart when that heart is on fire

the touch that is real when our thoughts make us feel
every movement lays claim to a soul's whip appeal

that is the lost art of love.