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There's a demon inside the cage behind bars of memory
snakes down deep like lava molten melting in each crevice
creaking age of myself, I rise from leaden limbs
envisioned as a heavy deadbolt, longing locking thoughts up
remind: the key — all this is fleeting
reweaving echoes singing singing, turning, over, over

I miss you, I still miss you
when you're here in this same room
with the lives that we spoke to
let the name do what the feeling soothed
I miss you, but no tale tells how I miss you
sweet sailor, in this same room
with the lives that we spoke to

From the image of a trace of what's cradled and let long ago,
become the same as the one I knew so sweetly
and i thank you day and deeply
in each footprint we place in
grace lands, superb silence, lush jungles of leaves
it's the only conversation worth listening to
yet here, in this same room, back to where I'm used to speaking quickly

something falls back on itself
there's a possibility
in this silence….

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