ripping and staring
the sun is setting in your eyes
burning and twisting
into an expression i can't read
and a mood i don't understand

but i've seen it before
and i remember the countryside
and watching the animals fall (we called them antelopes)
i don't remember seeing you cry
and i don't remember laughing
but i remember the smell of crackling wood
floating through your hair

and i remember the sound of true silence
which is overwhelming and forgettable
and i was afraid of what you were thinking
and i forget what i was afraid of
but ever since i've been burning books, letters and bridges
fumbling for the road back to the charred field
but never succeeding

shredded and blinking
the sun has set in your eyes
but i remember
and i look to you to keep me strong
but the antelopes have fallen
and the lioness is feasting, preparing to feed her children,
and we're walking on a paved road to somewhere