"Composition"
when the sun is orange and low
squinting into every inch of road
and a song’s notes
play their way past Monday’s wax
and down into a full chest
the scent of your eyes
in green mountain air
thuds and thuds and thuds
and i sing
and i write inside my fingers’ skin and i gotta get this down i gotta get it out
and i sing
and i sing to what could have never happened and i sing to the fear that if it didn’t and i sing to the memory of thinking i’d never touch your lips again and i sing to falling into your arms each night and i sing to “when can i kiss you again” and i sing to the day we breathed air as one
the first time
and i sing to every mile since then and i sing
and i sing
and i gotta get this down
down and out into the fleshy part
where no one else can see
where everyone will see
that part that makes us whole
again and again
that part where parts become particles and every solid square fits into a space
a space filled with
a place to sing
a place to stay
our memories
our constant
built
within and around and through and amongst and into
every note every stroke
of ink
Day 3
14 years ago
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