Some people hate the smell of smoke
To me smoke meant early Thursday morning bongs rips
And the sun fighting it's way through the curtains
His 8 AM shirtless skin against mine and his face in my neck
The way our lips would play and tease each other, longing and smoke on our breath
Until we drifted back into dreams
Because we weren't about to let the morning win
To take that away from us

My unrelenting guardian of the years,
to claw the scales of blindness from my eyes
won't spare the consequences of my fears.

Bankrupted soul, emotional arrears
will send me seeking you in anguished cry,
my unrelenting guardian of the years.

Removing self from lover's touch come near,
avoiding agony of being passed by
won't spare the consequences of my fears.

A draught of venom cloaked as cup that cheers
is snatched away before I drink it dry
by unrelenting guardian of the years.

The flaying of my own back, copious tears,
repeated penances all gone awry
won't spare the consequences of my fears.

When called upon for strength, he will appear;
should I refuse the help, he'll let me lie.
My unrelenting guardian of the years
won't spare the consequences of my fears.

Laced my love
With stardust
Because you
Needed space.