Isadora

In days of autumn fire, night rides black and cold, stars come out like ice, the love of dreaming, even at home, to dance across the sea, no matter what desire, winds are fierce and bold, they know each gleaming lie, our love is not for scheming, om smart ‘phones, they don’t give us memory, won’t replace the tides, tell us we're not alone, no matter who conspires, in the yellow evening, you appear condoned, a name for every leaving, written on a stone.