Her voice reached out to me 
by the camp's roaring firelight
but it was never meant for these ears,
these weathered outlaws in hiding.

Felt something like walking in on
two lovers right as longing lips meet
and your cold heart melts as helplessly
as frost gleams clear on still flowers
from such a sudden warmth that
you were never meant to be a part of.

I would have to quietly pull away 
and keep that fast pulse beat a secret
like I have too many times before when 
I was younger and gave too much of myself away,
when we needed each other so much 
more than we ever knew how to say.

But her voice reached out to me through
the night firelight flickering wildly
even if it wasn't meant for me,
never meant for men who live on the run.

I could feel a history humming through her bones,
could hear church bells chime on an August eve
right as the night turns to amber and I thought
she turned to leave but a breast pressed close
to share a quiet thunder soft and true in the chest
and a warm wind danced just enough to carry
the sound of a promise made under a stretching sky.

Felt like the sweetest sin to keep
something so beautiful all to myself,
the taste of honey rushing over lips,
eyes shimmering the way they only do
when taken inside such heat to make life,
to make something beyond ourselves
when we loved each other more
than we ever know how to say.

I would never again pull away if given another chance,
if she sang to me once more with such tender chords,
nothing could ever break this heart or our ties again,
there'd be a warmth to forever be a part of.

Her voice reached out to me past the softly fading firelight 
like it has for years before another life,
we were on the run from another war that left 
all of us to try and build something good again,
it was meant for those who felt alone 
for far too long within their own skin
for all lovers who felt that tide ebbing 
beyond any land or ocean between us.

I would never be able to tell that story
or know the shape of her heart now,
like the embers dancing as she sings,
briefly sparking from a touch before 
snuffed out in the cold dark 
just for being what they were,
beautiful and bright but only meant to 
glow with a song soon to be gone.

But her voice still reaches for me
after the fire no longer flares
and though I'm no longer so young,
to hear those tender chords once more,
I would give all of myself away.

I would love you more than 
I could ever know how to say.