My speakers miss the slow cracking rasp of your voice
and I know I’m not supposed to talk about the tears
or what happens to our hearts once we break them ourselves.

It comes to be a question of belonging
there is a space within you
perfectly build for me to sink inside,
where I hear your voice wistfully say my name

a space that you’ve guarded not emptied.

Now we are the detriment,
in the question of belonging.
There is a space between the soft flesh of my chest,
beyond the cracking of my ribs.

Inside of me, there is a space built for you
sometimes I keep myself there too.