bird house

At the very end of everything we know

Comes a shimmer in sound that folds at the corners

And suddenly you’re in your first bedroom

Peeling the wallpaper with your eyes

Cutting through a fuzz of noise that insulated you from memory

The smell of gasoline shows up like magic

Theres no other way to describe it yet

You oscillate, wavering between despair and eternal love, like a child

sometimes somebody else is in the room

It takes some time to notice

Suddenly, they’ve just been there awhile

And sometimes we sing the same songs

Finding meaning in the spaces you create between words

Then I notice you doing things I don’t

Tying up loose ends while I make them

I’d hate to have birds inside

But I can always change my mind

I don’t have to think about it right now