Me and her sit in the car, listening to a melancholy love song,
Holding hands, neither of us wanting to leave, to go back home.
The young woman singing longs for the peace her lover gave her,
And me and her long for the darks days to end, for peace to come.
Winter is coming back, the blackberry summer past, just a moment.
Me and her have seasons of light, but pass so quickly, back to the night.
Her hand is warm in mine, and our hearts of filled with love and joy,
But the morning is coming, and we must go back home again, to the day.
I lean over and kiss her cheek, her head, wrap my arm around her.
She kisses me back, and the solidness of touch reminds us of paradise.
The song raises up to the sweetness of our sadness, emptiness sanctified.
I kiss her soft lips, and as our faces touch we exchange our secret dreams.
The song ends, and I kiss her one last time, one last chance to touch.
We get out of my car, embrace, and stay holding each other a long moment.
The night is cold, morning comes with jobs and errands and all of that.
I kiss her cheek, and we go our separate ways, bittersweet in passed joy.