i awoke once more to copper. tints of green shade the room like your only dress. now you're gone, off to the store, or for good, but these things change a lot these days. (oh, you're gone again, and this time for good, but everything's changed.) and your off-white frame fades into the moonlight seamlessly. your silhouette haunts me from a distance, and to your cold touch, i woke. eyes stuck together; the view of your bedside. don't lift a finger, your bed's already been made by the setting sun and season's end. we all lie with our fate; something accessible at the time. champagne shot onto a wall by a hand dashed against the rafters, like a poem on fire for a friend. i was on my mountain, i wish i cared that they were all over you at the fire. help me to hold on, or pry off my fingers one by one, i wish i cared. i'm sifting through what's not mine. i sat there in silence and grew more distrait, and it feel's like last last winter, but everything's changed. and i'm wasting away; another faded shade of grey. in my dreams you spoke of exile and untouched memories too tattered to carry home.