solitude standing

solitude stands by the window
she turns her head as I walk in the room
I can see by her eyes she's been waiting
standing in the slant of the late afternoon

and she turns to me with her hand extended
her palm is split with a flower with a flame

solitude stands in the doorway
and I'm struck once again by her black silhouette
by her long cool stare and her silence
I suddenly remember each time we've met

and she turns to me with her hand extended
her palm is split with a flower with a flame

and she says "I've come to set a twisted thing straight"
and she says "I've come to lighten this dark heart"
and she takes my wrist, I feel her imprint of fear
and I say "I've never thought of finding you here"

I turn to the crowd as they're watching
they're sitting all together in the dark in the warm
I wanted to be in there among them
I see how their eyes are gathered into one

and then she turns to me with her hand extended
her palm is split with a flower with a flame

and she says "I've come to set a twisted thing straight"
and she says"l've come to lighten this dark heart"
and she takes my wrist, I feel her imprint of fear
and I say "I've never thought of finding you here"
solitude stands in the doorway
and I'm struck once again by her black silhouette
by her long cool stare and her silence
I suddenly remember each time we've met

and she turns to me with her hand extended
her palm is split with a flower with a flame

Suzanne Vega (Solitude Standing, 1987)