cursive

The sun unfurled itself in every ardent tone
That our twisted sneering faces had previously shown
Before we stared into its glory as it bled across the sky,
We had stared into our fury as it flooded from our eyes
Like the flowers now that glisten with the early morning dew
Like the birds nervously singing as the black fades into blue

But now the air is still again and breaking light is clear
And your hand slips into mine as we sit in silence here

So whatever you need to make you feel
Like you’ve been the one behind the wheel
The sunrise is just over that hill

The worst is over.

Whatever I said to make you think
That love’s the religion of the weak
This morning we’ll love like weaklings

The worst is over.