Inside Forty-five

Twenty-five years and the season has come

I've heard it in your voice

when you talk

of everyday things

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At home

​

Amongst the sound of teacups and morning radio

Across a worn kitchen table

​

The words spill

​

And you can't withdraw them

they become a part of me

as they are you

​

Then we take from each other

like dealers of debt

no less than the other

no fear of regret

as the words rise volcanic

and borders are drawn

papers are signed

children are pawned

​

Comes the dawn

and the last of you is laid out on the bed

folded into squares

crammed into compartments

snapped shut into darkness

​

There's a ticket in your pocket to somewhere

and no more misunderstandings

just the truth stretched thin by time

​

You fade from the driveway

​

Candid light in a bathroom, white

the longest hour in sight

the mirror plays fiend

draws silver on me

this is all I can see

a strange price for this freedom

​

I thought you were as far as I'd go

now I'm left to wander the world
inside forty-five years

wander hearts - fuck them up

or forget them all together

or do I keep my word when I first met you

to love like there is no tomorrow?

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