This would be so simple if you were fast asleep, and all the bottles you throw, they would be lost at sea. And you could take my letters and rearrange the words: you could read them backwards until you liked what you heard. If I could know what they know then we could sell this gold, and I could wear your halo when the nights grow cold. And you could wish my child’s eyes would turn to clouds and part, and I could wish that I lied when I said I lost your heart. So long, the days that melt away. So loud, the words you could not say. If only last December had stayed beneath the snow.

geographers (via dignifiedanddainty)