about

all that's left in the city

lyrics

a way home
fingers dipped in move
pockets deep with remains
and strangers counting days

they're awake
making masquerades
turning the coffee page
fixing sharp-edged states

they're on breaks
patient hands on rails
between expiry dates
claims of not-my-fault
and hands too sweet to hold

they're late
parking in rented space
news feeding unease
single folded seats
commute to queen-sized dreams
finding hands too sweet

credits

from forest fires, released January 1, 2015

license

all rights reserved

tags

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shefindsoldpoems Montreal, Québec

we've had these eyes for years

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