While I sleep tonight...
Wrapped in your sweet embrace...

Each night I sit by the window sill,
My gaze on the road that leads to our door...

So easy to cross convention’s line,
To slip a little further down...

A velvet kiss upon my lips
And you blend into the night...

Roaming the streets in dumped despair,
Reminders of you everywhere...

When she burnt her bridges, she
Scattered the ash...

(In the forgotten amber,
Lying still in golden peace...

In the vessel of my wife,
The makings of another life...

She slips quietly into bed, but
She is not ready for sleep...

You who are so full of light,
Give yourself to mother night...

The shape of words in Autumn is different from...
remarks are brittle and dry, turning to dust on...