I don’t even know your name, yet I’m thinking of names for our children. Oh, once I could believe in love in the abstract for someone I knew for five minutes.
Jackson Pollock knew love in the abstract; but in the real world he killed everything he touched.
Actually, we only passed on a busy street, but shared a secret smile that lasted a lifetime together.
Mark Rothko made love with blocks of pure color fading into eternity then he killed himself.
Well, the truth is, I dreamed of you last night. I’ve never even seen you.