We watched three DVDs of Elvis on the Ed Sullivan show, Just to find you waving in the crowd for a quarter of a second
It was brief But to see you so young And gentle and light Was worth the hours Of black & white tv And jokes that are no longer funny
The first night I met you You asked me if I was a writer And I asked how you knew
You said it takes one to know one
I read your poetry for three hours In Indian style on your living room floor While you ate crackers from a ziplock bag And talked about the love of your life And the way his chest felt The first time you used it as a pillow
You told me not to cry When Elijah dumped me You said pain is everywhere, I'll miss out on life If I let it consume me
I turned to leave your room On a random Sunday last December, It was cold and wet and dark, And I was tired, You grabbed my hand And stopped me in my tracks You said "learn to relax" And then you held me still Until you saw the anxiety melt out of my eyes
I asked you why you Bother to keep the car Even though you know You'll never drive it You asked me why I bother to love the sick Even though I know They're dying
You told me "don't close the blinds, The world is beautiful" Last time I came to say goodnight
You kept making plans, Where you'd go after you left here Even though "here" was certainly The last place you'd be
I never understood Why you kept pretending; Pretending there was more