He makes music,
A guitar with five strings,
Humming the words he doesn’t know,
The words he can’t remember.. they’re all lost somewhere,
If he doesn’t know where they are, how can I find them?
I wish I’d stop listening,
So I wouldn’t have to decide if it touches me,
If it touches me too soon,
Or if doesn’t touch me at all.
I ask him to sing me another song, “Your passions, you’ve misplaced them..
tell me a song about all of the words that you’ve lost in the wind,
Dance with them,” I tell him,
“Dance so you can remember where they’ve gone.”
He doesn’t like to dance,
Though he still grabs my hands to pull me on the tops of his feet, Spinning me around the living room while the tea in my cup gets cold.
I feel it in the tips of my toes,
The dance doesn’t stop.
All of the words that he’s lost,
I suppose they’ve never mattered,
Words mean nothing to the dance.
Dance happens without words,
They can go as the please,
“I still want to sing a song for you,” he sways,
“You should keep it,” I say,
And I will wait patiently as the passions bloom for themselves,
Until the waiting ends,
I told him where to find me,
“I’ll be lying in my bed,
With my head under the covers and my hands holding the pillow,”
I’ll be wondering, “When do I get my fill?”
He’s got his..
I envy his collection of lost words,
It means there is always something to look for.
Will he know it when he finds them?
When he does, I’ll ask him, “Where will they end, where did they begin?
When did you forget?
Will you keep dancing when the song is over, or will you stop before it’s finished?
When you can see the end, will you run towards it or move slowly?”
“The end keeps getting bigger,
And I keep wandering farther away,” he says to me.. making up a new song.
It fades in the passing days like his lost words,
Snatched up and warmed by the wind, again and again.
“Once the song is over, it gets on the boat,
And it won’t stop sailing until it reaches England,
I can’t help but wondering if there is any room on the boat for me.”
He gets on the boat,
He never finds the end.
“You know, maybe I should just stop wondering and keep searching,” I say after he’s gone.