i pour myself another cup of coffee
as the day begins     to creak
it sounds like everything talking
so i listen             half asleep

the sun has barely crept an inch above the world
and i see headlights      etching steam
slowly rising from the cobblestones
and the ever winding streets.
from the window, in my house shoes
with my tattered robe around me
i'm standing on the brink
of morning's halo... swaying gently
vanishing.

this how the rain gets in
how bones ache to the bone
and stars cave-in
this is how you lose your faith
and keep your sin
paint snowflakes black
so moonbeams crash
landing.