When we were floating, swimming, spinning,
were we speaking of the inner?
Felt the unwinding of a tether,
less than a free fall
You would drink away the pressure,
hiding out behind the heather-
Did you think I wouldn't notice you gone?
Fireflies turned the yard into hot Christmas
as John Prine sang about a Long Monday
Through the open window, above the studio.
I couldn't see you, but I didn't want to call your name
Because the bats were out to hunt,
making trails above our heads.
That place was made for quiet and reverence
Said it hit you all at once,
you felt it sinking with the sun
Good intentions you threw out to the breeze;
Paving paths to hell or coming back in threes.
Dusk turned navy blue and then there were stars
Insects chewing on our feet
We were falling asleep in the back of your car