Last night I awoke inside my dream.
and realized what must be missing.
The fall of the leaves on the avenue.
beach themselves against the feeling.
of never coming home.
And that's what I'm missing.
Oh, I hope you understand.
It's like that song you sang me, you said.
you wrote it.
about your baby girl. Autumn, you called.
her, when she didn't exsist, but she was.
Maya when she was real.
And last night I realized that your body.
was warmer than it usually feels like it.
is. You told me that life is a smile and.
that we only stop living when we get too.
tired to sing. Oh, how I hope you are not.
confused. There's only pure things I.
wish to tell you.
Now it's seven o'clock, and the sky's turned.
pink, and the clouds have disappeared.
With every breath I hear you take, I hope.
hurt will reappear. No, the sky's moving.
out, blowing away from here, it wants us.
to talk alone. Just uncover the night.
in your unburied eyes. Oh boy, you're older.
than you look. My back porch is a metaphor.
for the naked autumn breeze. The swing.
it blows towards the barbecue party we're.
having out by the road. Never doubt feelings.
like dust doubts air, it judges you all the.
same. Your many moods are present only.
when those seasons roll around. The summer.
of your sweetheart, who died before the.
wind. Now I've become your lover, and tonight.
I'm giving in.
The inverse of my love for you, is the hate.
you have for them. Why do you laugh anyway?
I have to insist on acting poor. Oh, please.
don't understand. You only make it worse.
when you tell me you want to leave. When you tell me.
you want me, for the night, to sleep.
under the trees. The stars don't provide any.
warmth, and the moon is only a cresent.
you refuse to touch me, even though, the frost.
bite isn't a secret. I know you'll have your.
good nights, too, when your eyes close too.
quickly. I wind up turning the radio off and.
going to bed too early. Don't pretend like I'm.
your winter, the darkness of your eyes.
We both know it's the other girl who.
you stayed with just last night. You.
said her name was Hope, and that was.
what she gave. I can find out so much.
more about her with just the turn of a.
page. How she read until her head.
ached, and ran her fingers through her.
hair, how she didn't believe in God.
and told you miracles weren't real.
Oh boy, I know you see me now.
Wasn't it always the point being made.
that had you stuck inside? But, when the.
window becomes yourself, you've found.
yourself on both sides. Spring is just.
for the faintness you feel in your.
heart once the morning's over. I tell.
you, I've got a collection of silver coins.
got fifty-eight days sober. But you don't care.
'cause afternoon means, it's time for.
your new sleep. You ask me to wake.
you up if I see, the fall and beach.
of any leaves. But I decide to let you.
sleep, in the best interest of me. Oh boy, tonight.
I'm giving in. Yes, tonight, I'm giving in.