Ash fixed on the window sill,
A burnt deposit built for waiting
In summer, in silence, in the cold evenings
When was the last time you were here?
A light on the window sill
path is covered in fog, cold night
The wick hides in wax, in shame
As I spent days trailing the drops of rain
Down this chin, down the window sill
Ash fixed on the window sill
A burnt deposit gradually drifting
in passive surrender for days of trailing
the rain down this chin as the wick hides in waiting
for the fog to clear for the last time that you'll be here.
