but I’m playing my favorite song for you I know you can’t hear it cuz you’re too far away I sink into the beats and my arms are solid blocks Moving hurts from missing you it’s my turn to stay now, and gently flip my heart over, a warm toasted color like the burnt amber taste aspen leaves get at the end of spring missing you is the white hot color of fire yet the bubbles of yesterday pop their ice on my eyes You’re chuckling softly I’m the words and melodies of our simple bytimes, when you were here, once singing and burning and becoming