The chimney swifts are scratching at the sky again.
Dusk weighs heavy and blue on the leaves.
I am at my loneliest when you're here,
Holding a mirror
To the dark river that runs within me.
I don't want to talk, I want to hold still
So I don't spill the contents.
I've been trying so hard to keep it filled.
No lights on in this room,
Just the outline of how I ruined the evening
With my whine.
All will be forgiven in time, but as the sky drops now
Into the prowling crouch of night,
I don't want to talk, I want to hold still
Like a hawk in mid-air, the wind
Folding in place to hold me there.
What it must feel like to ride the air.
That velvet coil.
That velvet coil.