Past the bandages and barricades
     and all of the
ways you try to hide
   behind your mask of settling
for less,
I can see through
     you as
clearly as if
   you were
the ocean
floor,
and all the
     doubts you cover
yourself in
   were the sea.
I know you
   better than you
give me credit for.
You are a
glass-paned house’s
     sidewalls
daring children
   to throw their stones
knowing all
too well that they
will never hurt
     you.
You’re the ending
   seconds of a
rain delay;
hope watching
the clouds as if
     waiting for the sky to fall.
Just rest
   if only for a minute.
The Earth will catch it.
It’s not a burden
you have to shoulder
     anymore.
So if you should
   ever decide
to come in
out of the storm,
please
     know
that
   I’ll be waiting
here
with my empty
hands,
     molded in the exact same shape
as yours.
   I’m hopeless in line,
you’re hopeless in love,
we’re hopeless alone
and alive
     and it might always
be that way,
   but the world isn’t going to end
on fire –
we will.
We can extinguish
     ourselves
on open mouth
   wishing wells,
two kissing coins for stars,
looking out at
the ghost-trees
     in behind the
satellite town.
   This is not a love letter,
but a surrender song.
Just a dream
I had one night,
     where it was only you
and me
   and some old
and ancient fable
telling us
‘Don’t give up!
     Tomorrow comes sooner
than you think. It’s just
   the waiting that makes
it seem so far
away.

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