Sinatra sketched, with pure inflection, all the words I yearned to say,
An honest anthem of affection in the frame of "Night and Day."

Orchestral rhythm-stoked emotion rose to lead us in the dance,
Amid the lyrical devotion of immortalized romance.

We lost ourselves within each other by inhabiting the tune,
Becoming halves of one another in the shadow of the moon.

I held you closer, gamely trying to impersonate Astaire,
Which left you jokingly decrying my self-conscious lack of flair.

We danced with questions to the chorus, eye to soul, and soul to eye,
And let the Chairman answer for us with his baritone reply.

Absorbing feelings penned by Porter, we relinquished them in tears,
And cleaned the stratifying mortar of commitment-laden years.

The crystal trickles shocked our senses to experiences missed,
Then we dismantled all the fences built between our lives...and kissed.

With perfect symmetry apparent in the twining of our hearts,
We found the kindred spark inherent in the dawn of second starts;

But songs create a vast illusion, and the music had to fade,
Along with skin-enkindled fusion and the chemistry it made.

We parted sadly, hope descending from the echoes of our theme,
And missed the promised happy ending of our still-unfinished dream.

So, Frank, impart your words to right me, and resume the song within,
Exhuming hope to reunite me with the girl beneath my skin.