I don’t know how long
until I can write a song like you,
one that won’t miss me
when it bleeds from my head
but it will miss with no logic
every time the door opens to someone else.
One that I can weave through my fingers
when you’re across the room
and on your skin
when you’re next to me.
One that can
explode in my bloodstream,
touch the lies and the truth,
grip me and not let go.
I don’t know how long
until I can write a song like you,
one that holds every piece
but can’t put them together,
one that laughs at everything
but still can’t hold my eyes.
I don’t know how long
until I can sing what you’ve said,
promises that fill all the canyons
even when they shouldn’t,
a close that vibrates with something I can’t name.
I don’t know how long
until I can write a song like you.
Maybe I have done it.