When They Play That Song You Like. . .

November 22, 2011
I want to see whether or not you've changed
in all these months gone by
are you still so outspoken, because it feels like decades
since I heard your voice outside my cell phone
I want you to come home for just one day
so it might feel like you were never gone
I promise I'd remember how lucky I am
to have you right you right here, as if you never went away
I'd make your voice the voice of my thoughts
to never forget its sound again, and I
would let your quiet underbreath singing
and your laugh like late fall air run through my veins
(they would sustain my heartbeat much better than blood)
I'd take your photograph each time I blinked
and keep them boxed up deep in my mind
stored away for the loneliest nights
(so if I felt like dying,
because you are not here
I could take out the way your cheeks turned red
(only from the cold, but still. . .)
and the way your hand was warm
the fleeting moment it brushed mine)

I would take all this from you
and never ask for anything again
hard as it would be, I'd let you go away forever
if you came back for a single day

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