I heard the lighthouse blow across the shore,
we're all passed out on the floor.
You sat awake to watch TV.
That blue hour felt the same as all the times I laid awake
soaking in the feeling of being held by your grace.
There's no easy way to say, you're the muse I chose to crave.
Like blue hour in that living room,
the colors spawned from solitude.
When I kissed you on the cheek,
the sun began to rise,
and when the credits rolled the world began
to turn
again
and again.