I'll sit and watch my own sunset.
And if it ever stops
I know where to find the stars.
The passion colors, the clouds
so far away they might as well be memories.

Remembering is hard to do.
Is forgetting even harder?

My arms are crossed
and my wings are folded around you.

Your wings are black.
You call them curses.

I always laugh when you talk like this.
What else can I do, when you seem so convinced.

What else is a raven, but a gateway to magic.

Will you hear me, from across the world.
Even if by the time the wind reaches you
by following the marks your dreams left
I've danced into another me.
One closer and farther from you.