We'd been apart about a year.
A pointless year we both agreed.
And now it would be at least three,
Potentially forever.
I asked if she would ever
Consider coming with me.
Thoughtfully she replied yes,
Then we never talked of it again.
I still hold her as the gold standard.
She insists I don't and swears I misremember.
But that's an image I was careful not to taint.
My reluctant regretful patron saint.
Thanksgiving. We got a drink.
To recollection, let ourselves sink.
It's not regret, but it's on the brink.
She's different now it wouldn't work.
She shrugs it off, a sheepish smirk.
But you'll never pull her out of my patchwork.
I still hold her as the gold standard.
She insists I don't and swears I misremember.
But that's an image I was careful not to taint.
My reluctant regretful patron saint.
Anna Arobas makes intricate, otherworldly folk-pop with delicate, glacial arrangements but a howl of heartbreak at the center. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 11, 2022
Belaver’s “Trash” builds from hushed verses to a big, booming crescendo of a chorus, with lyrics that praise finding beauty in darkness. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 14, 2018