I returned home at 4 o clock
The latest time I’ve ever known
Through your voice I found my echo
Through your voice I found my home

And in the pitch black, hopeless moments
There’s one place I always go
Your fragile pulse pressed flush against me
Your soul making me it’s own

Your elegance entrances me.
The way you carry your words
the way they roll off your tongue
and melt like butter in my mind.
The way you carry your body
like you own the world
like you own the universe.
I am entranced by your elegance.

I've forgotten how to live
like a man on death row
accustomed to four walls
and the monotony of routine
waiting for the inevitable

yet still I hold out for the miracle
some dna evidence that this is all a mistake
that there is something waiting for me
and that this death will give way
to pastures full of sheep
waiting for the shepherd to return