I imagine that if I lived on a planet with two moons
On a night when they were both full I would've been able to see how sad you were that night
As it was, it was a crescent moon here on Earth
And it was just as gorgeous as your smile always is
I'm so sorry
I'm normally so much better at noticing those things
I was so lost in the beauty of your eyes
I thought I was swimming in the blue of them
But as it turns out your eyes aren't blue
Those were just gathering tears
Waiting for me to save your mascara with my thumb
Settling instead for cascading down your cheek bones after I had finished bathing in them
Sometimes I am just a stupid, stupid, boy
We've been friends for so long I shouldn't still have a crush on you
But you're just so pretty
So kind
And you talk to me
Which is a combination of things I'm still not used to
It's been hard to not notice
And that really gets in the way sometimes
I am so, so very sorry

I no longer know where the meat market is
They took me off the mailing list
Not that I'd know what kind of currency they are using these days anyway.
Probably something I've never heard of
Something you can't exchange at a bank.
It's okay though, I don't miss it
I'm not a vegetarian or anything
I just prefer a more balanced diet these days
Besides look at me
I don't need that Grade A cut
We both know that supermarket meat tastes just the same
Lasts longer too
Plus I'm just gonna eat some now and freeze the rest for the weekend
Scrape the frost burn off, marinade it in the fridge for a bit, cook it over a slow fire for hours.
Because it doesn't matter where your meat comes from it's how you spice it up that'll make you want to lick your plate clean

On the day we met
You asked me where I lived
I told you two blocks that way
You laughed and said I live to blocks this way

Today is our wedding
We are dancing to the smash hit country song, "Meet in the Middle" by Diamond Rio
It's super cute
Your right hand in my left
My right on the small of your back
Room for Jesus between us
There is a prescription of steps we are fumbling through
I can see your eyes dancing through the room
Picking out Instagram filters for the memories you've shared with each of the people who are looking at you and whispering at each other, "how cute"
The life you have walked to arrive at this middle that we have found will make you smile
A brand new bride glow in your cheeks

We have run through our choreography too quickly
Neither of us are particularly talented at dancing so we slink into each other
Your arms wrapped under mine and around my shoulder blades
We are dancing like eighth graders
The dance floor fills with your family and my friends
The song is faster than a slow song
We dance slowly anyway
So does everyone else
It is cute

You glance over my shoulder to pick out Instagram filters for the road I walked to find this middle with you
And when you do
This song, "Meet in the Middle" will feel like the biggest lie you have ever told
On the day we met
You were walking towards the possibilities of life, humming to yourself, "High-**-High-** it's off to work we go" a skip in your step a smile on your face
I was shuffling with my head down, whispering, "just one more step, take just one more step"
You are about to feel very guilty for never having realized how hard trusting this 'happy' has been for me
You will be crushed under the weight of my past
I will spend every moment of this marriage, for however long that may be, trying to make you believe this was not a mistake

I lean into your ear as the song dies down
I whisper, "It gets better"
You smile a smile that will define our marriage
While your mother will cackle at my mother,
"Oh aren't they're just so cute."

I’ve become quite adept at hiding the best parts of myself
In my Facebook status, tweets, Instagram photos
You are looking for a reason to justify the attention your mind is giving me
A redeeming quality
A reason to say, “hey…hey I see you there”
“That you inside of you that isn’t so afraid of you”
I see you out there looking for the me you saw that one time
For that thing that made your heart miss for a second
We are playing Where’s Waldo with my confidence
You keep finding all those striped shirt imposters that are my insecurities
I have left littered everywhere
But you forget silly little girl we are not looking for simply a man in a striped shirt
We are looking for a man in a striped shirt and a ridiculous hat
I bought this stupid ******* hat so that you could see me
Clearly this is not the kind of hat one wears at the dockyard
The pier
Or on the farm
Or Time Square
Or the circus
Well maybe the circus
But definitely not at home
Or the zoo
And for sure not on the internet
Every day we are playing two insecurities and a truth
Did I post that picture of my book because I want you to know that I think I’m smarter than I think most people think I am
Or did I just like the book
Is that a picture of my shoes
Or was I just wanting to let you know that I was financially secure enough to take care of myself
Is that a picture of my son
Or just a statement of my ability to commit
Tell me which one of those is the truth
Which one of those would make you go first
I am standing here
In this stupid mother ******* hat
At a shopping mall
In the middle of ******* Minne-*******-sota
Please find me
I know that you have spent a long enough time looking at the parts of me that look just enough like me that you might confuse them for me
But they aren’t the real me
They’re just some self-doubt who bought the same shirt as I did on sale at Costco over Memorial Day Weekend
Please recognize me
Say hi to me
I am really good at saying hi back

This golden fiddle sure does draw a lot of attention round here
I haven't had an empty beer glass since the day the Devil slunk outta Macon with his tail between his legs
Johnny the Devil Slayer they call me
You should hear them chant
It echos off the rafters of these hollow afternoon bars
They know my name because they know my fiddle
They don't know my face and they ain't never gonna remember it
I am the man who took their beloved golden fiddle from the hands of the Devil himself
They ask me to play the song that out played the Devil
Like God would come down from heaven and course that song back through my veins to impress four drunks on a Tuesday in Macon
They ask what the best that has ever been is doing at a bar on Tuesday morning
Like it wasn't my soul if it hadn't been this fiddle
Like it wouldn't've been their souls if it hadn't been this fiddle
They ask for Fire on the Mountain Run Boys Run like it wasn't a warning
Like I don't still have scars on my chest from the spark that jumped off the strings when he pulled his first note

I leave my winnings at home sometimes
Pay for my own beer
Listen to people tell stories about my fiddle
Say, "I'd love to see that fiddle"
Say, "If I could only touch it once"
Say, "I just want to hear it play"
Say, "I saw it once it was amazing"
I sit silently thinking to myself
How easy it is to worship the Devil's golden things
Often have I had the prideful impulse to stand and shout,
"I am Johnny you sons-of-*******
I am the best that has ever been
Memorize my face
Tell them my name
My name is Johnny
I am the man with the golden fingers who played my warped, cracked, widdled-down wooden fiddle 'til my bow was threads
My strings snapped and my fingers bled down the neck
Dyed my fiddle crimson that day
My fiddle, my fiddle brought down the Devil
This golden idol will remind you what his face looked like"
But that line of thought does not befit God's chosen instrument
They call me Johnny the Golden Fiddle
They call me Johnny the Devil Slayer
But that Devil ain't dead
He's in this here golden violin
And he smiles every time they stare
It's my crimson fiddle that shines the brightest when the days are dark

Out here the hills bite back
They nip your toes at night
In this hollow place there is nothing between your dreams and the Milky Way
Except of course the moon
The moon makes you sleep walk
The cacti get you in your sleep
On your fingertips
When you reach for the promise of their mirage
     Trees you once climbed
     Bunk beds and secret forts
The foxes snap at your heels in the morning
It is time to wake up and get out of the sun
It is coming up now over those dust covered mountains yonder
You should not get caught in it
It does not forgive like father did

Have you ever heard a rock sing?
If you are still alive come sunset
Stay awake a little too long
You will
As an echo first
Then the distant memories of a lullaby mother sang
And when you close your eyes you will hear her full volume
Come hither on her siren tongue
Go thither woven into the soles of your boots
You may not wake up
These hills bite hard
You may not want to
She sings so
Politely

She tiptoed through the city playing 'Hot Sticks' on her snare drum
Her fire-engine-red bright-as-****-mother-*******-snare-drum
Midnight street lights jumped off the chrome tube lugs harder then her four sixteenth notes
Never had realized how good the acoustics were here on 47th
Not so much an echo
A reverb
The lights on behind every curtain
Children pressing oils stains into the windows leaving little ovals of fog from their nostrils
Old ladies in the middle of dialing 911
The telephone wire shoes tap dancing her rhythm on the sky
pop ta-pop-pap-op pop pop-pap-pap-pap-ta-pap-pat
Tip toeing
Like she was yelling the whole world the biggest secret she could think of just wanted to make sure she didn't wake her parents in the next room
I can't remember what she wore

A dress, I guess
Whatever
She kissed my cheek and bit my shoulder
Tip toed away
Blue high heels...****** eye-shadow blue high heels
I yelled at her, "Why are you tip toeing, you've already woken the whole neighborhood?"
Without a thought
Without a pause
Without missing a beat she yelled back,
"If I am going to wake them all up anyway it ought to be with my song, not my step"
I sat down and heard the stem of a flower snap beneath me

The drumming was gone, all the lights were off
There were no footprints to follow
My shoulder dry
My cheek a tingle
I had woken them with my step
Had no song to put them back to sleep with that night
Tried to whisper a lullaby
Instead pulled the trumpet from my pocket
Blew 'Taps' the whole way home
A string of cop cars, and yelling ladies with their curlers in behind me
Stage lights and groupies
And from somewhere in the fog my desperate attempt to wake them all up became a duet to play them back to sleep.