This bracelet This bracelet means nothing, really Just some plastic beads Black thread Uncomplicated knots with strings of offset orange, yellow, green. It’s just a bracelet.
But it’s your bracelet. Your bracelet. The replacement for the blue one I lost in New York The one I hated myself for dropping But you never did You just fixed it And every time I see it, It’s like I’m there with you again
My heart leaps from my chest At it’s shining, vibrant face Smiling at me like an old friend Because that’s what we are
When I’m nervous, I twist the band The beads click and dance and sing in my fingertips I think of it like those ruby red slippers Maybe if I click it enough times you’ll appear next to me
I wish that were how it worked Wished the bracelet could talk me down Off of this ledge of conclusions But it can’t. We will never be the same... Unlike the bracelet. Because when it comes together on my wrist, Kissing the skin you used to