Not the blossom of song not the veil of music

I am the sound of my own breaking

You toy with the length of your dark curls

I am captive to my own dark thoughts

We brag to ourselves that we are different

this weakness has burdened our simple grief

Now you have come and I find myself bowing

this blessing a sadness this prayer a longing

I am a fragment sounding the dawn

you are the walls of my every echo