Dusky

Blessed is the front porch and your six Pabsts
Your feet on the milkcrate
And your hands in your lap
Something’s on your mind, your eyes brighten
You pull me in again with your excitement
You notice every angle
The way you look at buildings
The way you look at people
I want to hear your interpretation
You’ve got ways of seeing hidden meaning

Another five minutes since we last spoke
Blessed is the front porch
Because I’m going for a smoke
Something’s on my mind, it’s getting dusky
I tell myself not to worry, but how can I trust me

When I worry about everything?
Every little reaction, every passing sigh
I could turn mountains into dust
Where would that leave us?

Clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy
In our house the sickness is the same as the remedy
I know you feel it too and it clearly bothers you
I say “it’s okay, don’t worry,”
But you can tell that I think it might not be

Because you notice everything
Every little reaction, every passing sigh
You could turn mountains into dust
Where would that leave us?

You notice everything
Every little reaction, every passing sigh
I’m not up for interpretation
Blessed are the places that grant us patience