Sweet Kind of Ruin

The tide came in at seven sharp and draped the pier in fog I counted cracks in the ceiling plaster, three above the clock The pills were cold when I touched it, I left it there to prove That not all things that sit still waiting earn the right to move Somewhere a window is open Somewhere the dark comes in The quiet voice keeps asking What the instinct won't begin I have been the rust at the base The weight that keeps the garden from the street I have been the sweet kind of ruin With jasmine in its teeth She kept a glass of water on the sill the whole December For something she had read about but couldn't quite remember The clown parade was playing when she finally let it cry Some things deserve an answer and some answers just deserve goodbye Somewhere a window is open Somewhere the dark comes in The quiet voice keeps asking What the instinct won't begin I have been the rust at the base The weight that keeps the garden from the street I have been the sweet kind of ruin With jasmine in its teeth I won't ask for resolution I won't dress the wound in light I'll sit in the particular dark That belongs to this particular night I have been the rust at the base The weight that keeps the garden from the street I have been the sweet kind of ruin (The sweet kind of ruin) With jasmine... In its teeth