Let me go, then,
Out of this room
That smells of cigarettes
Yesterday's midday news
And you.
Into the burning streets
Like a dream that flitted
In and out of your sleep
So many nights ago.
Sit by the window, then
On a table with coffee rings
Circles upon circles in faded rhyme
Of Morrison regretting lost time.
And think of me
When the rain spatters
Against the old stained rug
Where the black cat once sat.
For I hear the rain, too
In the dark confusion of darker days
With music in my ears
And oblivion in my head.
Out on the streets, again
To search for hidden meanings
In alleys that break and crumble
To hide the stains of history.
And I look at you in smoke rings
Still sitting at that window
And I wonder if you know
That I don't dream at nights.
So listen to the waves of sin
As they wash the lights out of this town
As shadows lengthen and stretch and engulf
The lives that could have been.
Look up at the blind sky
That cloaks the world tonight
And let the breeze stir memories
Of a childhood you never had.
But return inside, before the tide
Binds you in its hypnotic stare
And let the shadows retreat
Into their cold, cavernous lair.
And don't think of me
When the day breaks again
And grains of light creep over
The dog eared keepers of your solitude.
For I stretched out for
A grain of light
And stretched too far
Too out of sight.
I remain still, trapped
In wisps of smoke
In specks of dust
And your occasional sigh.
And you and I
Have left this room
So long ago;
Now, let me go.
