saving me until mourning

longing for the summer nights

where everything was lost in crimson

the sun’s persimmon on my lips

possibility lying under the lunar eclipse

a room lined in silver

tapestries of trees all too familiar

with my pine right up the river

camp down the bayou

and car rides at noon

getting lost without you

an eye for mine

saying we have nothing but time

with a clock running on the batteries of another life

darkness knocking at my door

the sun is setting and i am too

one question left lingering:

who am i, to love you?