The times when I look up at the sky when it’s still blue.
I think of your eyes.
Clear and soft.
Sometimes when I watch the sky turn to night.
I thing of how they turned from soft to hard.
Like cold ice.
They froze me still.
Like the frost in your voice.
I tried to tell you it wasn't my choice.
Still you said the sight of me was too much.
And just like that you blew me away with the December wind that night.
And still when I look up at the sky when it’s still blue.
I think of your eyes.
I tried to think of the ways I could catch you.
Tell you the truth of all of this.
Then I dream that you'd say "I believe you.”
But I won't hold my breath.
So on my way home.
Walking still alone.
Looking at the sky while it’s still blue.
I thought of your eyes.
I heard that voice behind me.
You voice came out horse and desperate.
I listened to every word that hung in the air like a thousand masterpieces
in my hearts museum.
Of how every time you saw the amber sun set of the fiery color of the leaves
changing.
You thought of me to.
So under the sky that was still blue.
I was with you.


 
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