movie tickets and birthday cards the things i found under my bed when i packed the car a last look at the back roads, the clearer lens where i first saw you running your hands along the fence i pass the places we’d go with no explanations but the secrets in our dresser drawers, and the palpitations i see the sunlight in the window how it would dip on your face i feel the chapped lips, the foreheads, my fingers, your waist on the shore where we’d go to roll up our sleeves and claim to be something more than four sandy knees we can only be what we can’t be without on the shore where we’d go to have our names drowned out the glasses, the sweater, the first day i met ya packed neatly into a cardboard box in black we were dressed, remembering the best, i should probably say goodbye, but i’m not now a glance out the window is daring me to exchange the images in my head with what stands in their place so to the histories and the mysteries i say goodbye i pass the places we’d go to with a left at the light it was three in the morning, they were four simple words seven seconds of silence to prove what i’d heard it’s not the air we breathe, but the breaths in-between realizing what we got, and letting it go free the glasses, the sweater, the first day i met ya packed neatly into a cardboard box when the door swings open, i’ll eye the chosen saying i’ve lost a lot, but i’m not

we set our own alarm that day we set our own alarm and stayed awake sweaty palms and open bars will tell you nothings changed but you left sand in my right shoe and a couple coffee stains it’s not the same my letters got heavier once my lips sealed them shut it’s in the envelopes, when your voice gets low, and all that keeps you up in the nights when I’d see you and let the stars go black cause staring into nothing was better than looking back we’d sit out on the tar and watch the sun set on the car we’d forget to use we could smell the winter in our clothes feel the distance in our toes and untied our shoes i saw it on the bookshelves, through the windows, the dust shining through the holes in the walls i built to trust i saw it in the glory of the skies and how they’d mimic your eyes till you shut them in your fragile way it was in every dial tone in all i had known and it’s here to stay now i’m danglin by a wire plugged into my head telling me to move forward but its towards you i turn instead so i’m back standing in that hallway staring at your door and i see everything i wrote you kicked out on the floor so i write more