Golden Hour
Ásgeir Trausti Einarsson, Pétur Ben
sun dipped halfway behind the ridges
in the golden hour
forming a fiery amber sky
reflected on the lake below
on a chase after something vanished
a sense of childlike wonder
we threw our clothes off by the road
and then we headed to the shore
running to the water
sand between our toes
grab my hand and hold your
breath before we go under
I don't know what’s below the surface
of these silent waters
still I can’t wait to reach the lake
and take a leap of faith with you
running to the water
sand between our toes
grab my hand and hold your
breath before we go under
jumping off together
the water ain’t that cold
grab my hand and hold your
breath before we go under