It's True

There are illicit rumours circling around you,

But you say they're just that,

Illicit rumours that hold no fact,

And I, for once, know it's true,

Because what I see in those blackhole like eyes,

That pull me from distances far away,

Are galaxies that reflect from my own eyes,

As you hold my face in your hands,

Smiling, like you always smile,

But somehow, this time, it's different,

From your illicit rumours,

And you, for once, know it's true.