I’ve been sleeping in churches at night. Anything to pass the time.
Sometimes the choir comes in and practices their hymns for Sunday.
My hands they won’t stop shaking. Her eyes are calm and porcelain.
Those statues of Mary in any calming face I cross with.
I miss your lips. I miss your lips and I dream of the night when you came in my arms.
I miss your hair.
Windows and lightning and porcelain eyes.
Angel it’s cold but the windows are open should you care to fly in for a while.
I’ve been seeing myself in an airplane. Floating across every sea. Picturing you there waiting for me. I remember that cold cold night when you said let’s try not to make sense of any of this. Just let it be. Let it be.
And when I sleep some night I can still hear your shoes stepping through the snow covered cobble stone made clear by the moon.
I miss your hair.
Windows and lightning and porcelain eyes.
Angel it’s cold but the windows are open should you care to fly in for a while.
Oh just let it be what it is. Just let it be what it is.

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