coldest morning from dark by Wolves Asleep

and now the garden sleeps
and now the garden sleeps

running and screaming and thinking about all the words that you're piecing together they rhyme in your mind
sweeter and softer pedals that surround her reminders of dimly lit porches that hide but you're trying

you're trying not to speak
but now the ceiling breathes in
swollen shaking knees baring
marks around our bodies remind us of the edge of the couch blocking the window
coldest morning that we've had
coldest morning

will we wait
will we wake up without a fire to stir
up without a fire to stir
up without a fire to
up without a fire to stir

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