The sun wrote to us this morning
Letters of unfinished days
She asked if we were burning
And painfully held our gaze
In silence and in light
There is little left withheld
Rays unapologetically bright
As ardent as it felt
The question frightened you
Watching our words fade
Colors of the lost – an odd hue
Spoken in holy serenade :
Hands of a savior
Eyes the shape of water
Ask if they’ll save her
Ask if they’d bother
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