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Though the floor plans have changed
I still feel you emerging
From the crowded laughter rooms
Into the soft piano music
Am I equal strange to you
With an added century of devices
Or just an outline sketch of a nude
Barely warm against the canvas?
If I could paint my breaths unread
I'd string them round like paper dolls
And hold a sea shell to my eyes
To witness the drowning
Who are these wafer figurines
Solid as a weave and yet so brittle
Joined so hand in hand
You can't tell where it began
Anyone who's in the line
Is in the middle
No, our floor plans are not the same
But I still can feel you breathing
And are the rooms you nightly tread
Those that were, or the ones
I'm yet to be in?
If I could paint my breaths unread
I'd string them round like paper dolls
And hold a sea shell to my eyes
To witness the drowning
