Didn’t you ever Hear the Saints of Night The way they lingered and whispered And took away all our fright. That one brusque evening You looked into eyes Stars spelled wisdom And burned away sins All the skies. Akin to my demons My fears spelled the plight Of virtue and forgiveness How did you make it all right?
Drunk in a café Under the beach house At night. You smiled like it could Last and that is why I sighed With hope that this moment Could freeze but you turn To tell me: it’s over, The hard part has begun.
We danced on shattered glass As our feet bled to bone But happy, oh, I was I didn’t have to be alone. The moonlight shone brightly And razed all my homes Of free falls and train wrecks The silence choked me more.
It stung, the common sight Of being apart and far off The shore. I swore I could plunge in Deep and let go. It purged me of essentials To let my memories Out the door. But conviction that held me Urged me to get off The floor.
The friend that I needed Was killed in a war Of preposterous vulnerability That I couldn’t evade Even now. I searched and I failed Till one night I saw I didn’t need my friend Or an image for someone To draw. I slipped into a rabbit hole That I knew held the key To a place if I entered I would not flee. There you stood with shoulders So broad and so sure If I was in a crisis You’d do more than just cure.
Now we’re back to the Café The beach house At night. It’s stormy and ravenous Of destruction tonight. You’re talking and slowly Your breath means more Than the humour that escapes Your perpetuating aura-