Under the yellow waxed paper umbrella
I found a girl humming sadly
I asked her name and she only stared down at
her shiny black boots

They were so slick in the midnight rain
they wouldn't make a sound on the silent pavement  

Neither did she, after she left

burst from that golden sac, bathed in light and burning in the new sun
for you were always meant to

I woke up from a nightmare
I could not stand to keep
to myself

you were stretched across the couch
coffee going cold on the table
a half finished cigarette
still burning

you wrapped me up
in kind words that
I could not bare
to hear

whispered into my ear
"one day we will go wandering
and this tiny house will overspill
with dreams'

you are not your memories, darling
you are not the bad things
that have been done to you
you are a fierce flame
that warms my heart

forget them, my love
they are nothing
and you, and you
are everything

There were always clouds, I thought. There were always clouds and rain, and sunshine, and snow. There were always leaves, trees and flowers. There was always change and decay. And maybe, just maybe that was enough for now.

Pictorial sacramento
On a beach with sandwiches and roads of gold
beyond the horizon