The doorbell rings, the cold air moves, blue white light on cans and fruit

I came for water, maybe gum, just something small to keep me numb

The freezer hums, the floor shines clean, this hour makes everything look thin

The night is long, the silence deep, but even hurt can walk in sleep

I hold a basket by my side, like I'm still waiting for your hand and mine

Not every love goes dark at once, some stay alive and borrow light

A receipt, a shelf, a passing song can make one minute feel too bright

Under the aisle light, I almost see you

In the silver glass, in the midnight blue

Half of this city closes down too soon

Under the aisle light, I still come back to you

A clerk looks up then looks away, a radio leaks a soft old phrase

The coffee turns beneath the heat, a stranger drops some coins by me

The hardest thing I've had to learn is how to let the small things turn

To stand inside the afterglow and buy the things I need alone

There is a kind of fragile ache in all the errands heartbreak makes

A plastic bag, a paper cup, a thousand ways I cover up

So let me bend and let me mend, let every night do this again

For I am here beneath this light, still learning how to cross this night that carries on

While all I do is hear your name in something blue

Under the aisle light, I almost see you

In the silver glass, in the midnight blue

Half of this city closes down too soon

Under the aisle light, I still come back to you

The door swings shut, the air turns warm

I walk back out before the storm, still letting go

Street after street with neon fading at my feet

Softly, slowly, morning starts and blue keeps moving through my heart