Walking out, a scorching white sky loomed above us
Our dreams hung suspended in heavy air
Morning sighs
And pillow hair
I allowed myself to drift and greet the black naked branches above
Thought I heard your voice through the blurred weeks
But sense never reached me
So I walk home alone
“Will it always be this way?”
“Will it always be this way?”
I ask my shoe
But it doesn’t know
I never do.
But it doesn’t know
I never do.