We drink the evening in a frosted glass. Nothing about the music is profane. Your eyes hold all emotions very quiet. Fey shadows stretch landscapes beyond belief.
A whisper of sunshine behind the hill Keeps back a little winter for the soul. Smoke from the old house writes our names in space. Just by a breath our time is blown away.
The boat of twilight is ephemeral. One fragile touch destroys its frail, blue sail. The fate of longing is a memory. Friend, flesh and blood cannot inherit dusk.
