Sunday, January 10, 2010


Tired, cracked fingers stroke old strings

I’m searching for a melody

I’m searching for a memory

I’m remembering your skin, just seconds from mine

I’m searching for reflection.

staring into this glass

watch the seconds drift away

I’m searching for a melody.

The curve of this body, resting on me

hollow, cool and comfortable

these fingers bring out sound

I wrote a song to no one

Won’t you write a song for me?

Trapped inside, yet somehow feeling so exposed,

alone and naked.

I’m searching for as memory

Tired, cracked fingers stroke old strings

Bring out a sound so familiar

So comfortable, so unchanged.

December 2008, nobody home.