She had heard rumors about tomorrow.
This time she swore to believe them.
In the past the future had let her down.
What began with starry promises
turned into stony, lovesick afternoons
and endless evenings caught dreaming
in someone else’s back room.
Something about midnight’s echo
convinced Geneva a different dawn was in place.
If a new day could be unwrapped,
opened with the sun,
no fragile enemies would hear.
First light promised to heal the hollow places
where sadness traces appear.
Geneva awaits the morning.