The light was burnin' low;
the sky poured me rains,
he's on the other side
of the pole.

I tucked myself in
and sang a lullaby
for a nearly dead star.

There's a feeling stronger than to loathe
Especially when your hand is intertwined with his
And he gazes upon the pearls in your hair
Your high brow, your blank stare
And maybe even the cut of your dress,
The lace it holds, the earring that sways as you dance
You know it, the way he looks at you
And if you will deny it, simply keep in mind
How he lets his fingers linger onto yours,
And despite the sharpness of your snark and wit
Maybe you'll catch yourself looking
His high brow, his blank stare
His eyes like pools of honey
And you'll know, there is a feeling stronger than to loathe.

in your mind
all but a picture of me remains
but in mine
a movie is playing on repeat
and you are the lead
the director
and love interest

like my guitar
and your eyes
and the way you looked that night
and the stars in June
in the big Vermont sky
and the way my heart
always shined around yours.