bedrooms/orange
i’m still here
underneath the strings of stars
up there in the milky folded fabric
above the walls and walls of records
and paintings of the coast
i’m still here
typing just to hear the sound
of my fingers punctuating the turntable
and if nobody reads
at least i can get the sounds out
except the silent missing ‘j’ key
lost somewhere behind the bookshelf
i’m here
to put you to legend with my voice
to make you come alive with my hands
to speak, to learn, to smoke and drink and spill
to play guitar and learn your favorite songs
to build us a room where we can be
the radiant souls we know we’re meant to be
