waking to the spiderwebs outside of windows

you hang over me,
like a dream
leftover from the night;
sitting so still
in the centre of your
universe,
you somehow
hold on
while looking like
you're letting go

every night,
the cold comes to claim us;
it meets you at my window,
truth tugging on your strings;
but you hold on,
refusing to meet
half way,
when winter is willing
to wait much longer

the morning is only
what the morning
makes out of us

and every morning,
with the dreams
drying from my eyes,
i'm trying ...

i'm trying to learn
to love
while letting
you go