True North

I rouse slowly, reluctant to depart
In the dim of the lamplight, I gaze upon you
In adoration
Admiration

Sculpted by the most talented of graces,
I gently touch your face, goodbye
And the softest of frowns creases your brow
Beneath luxe layers of sleep

The streets are wrapped in glassine
Reflections of the lights above on the below
The sharp pull and muted hiss of puddles
Keep my attention focused on the road

My compass has shifted
. . .Nearly imperceptibly
. . . . .And while home is still home
. . . . .Home is there, also
. . .My heart begs its return to your side
My North no longer true

. . . . .My compass has shifted
. . .And the question is no longer
Will I let you love me?
The needle points instead to
. . .Will I let myself be loved?
. . . . .My North no longer true

In this strange, rainy hour
I travel in the company of late lovers,
An infinite number of Seasons Greetings,
And a sad, solitary ice cream truck

I remember pouring love like a sieve
Into a broken vessel of a man
That kept none, wasted all
And yet, I find you fill my heart to overflowing

With admiration
Adoration
I set my broken compass aside and retire
Let these words be your kiss, good morning