November Wedding

Hillside.  Light is collected freely.
This is a November wedding.
You take what you can get.
Some sigh, clearing their throats in division,
Think this wasn’t the best decision
But they try to give their hope to it.

And there’re absences, people who can’t find the cause to give,
People that I really love.
But what it comes down to is you have been holding my missing rib
And it’s you that I promise to love.

Your face is like the sound of my favorite record,
Like the smell of my childhood blankets,
Like the feel of holding hands.
Your life flows out like an undercurrent,
Defends like a Roman centurion,
Makes me crumble and cave in.

So hold me, tell me you promise me everything,
Remind me of all that I am.
I will believe in it,  I’ll speak and I’ll walk and I’ll breathe in it,
Just tell me again and again…

Life is not unkind, but it has be bewildered, 
Left me crooked and a little off kiltered.
It’s a shape and a mist, and it’s gone.
I can’t always seem to remember the number
When I stop and give in to the hunger,
But I always have you and you are my home…

On the hillside, the grouping is smaller and tighter,
The sunlight is glowing warmer.
I can see your teeth when you grin.
Some smile, raising their hands in welcome.
My ring is a shining beacon
Of the circle we’re gathered in.

There are absences, but I think it’s a lesson I’ll learn to live,
A lesson that’s not hard to love.
What it comes down to is you have been holding my missing rib,
And it’s you that I promise to love…