Far Too Wide

The cotton is a glacier now. This bed is wider than the sea. I’m tracing maps upon your pillow. Where your shadow used to be. The silence has a heavy sound. It’s pacing circles on the floor. I’m listening for the river. Coming through the front door. My ribs are tectonic plates. Shifting while I wait. There’s a mountain in my throat. Just to keep the soul afloat. From Prague to my chest. I’m waiting for the light. The room is far too wide. The room is far too wide. From Kyoto to the rest. I’m holding on so tight. I’m waiting for the light. I’m waiting for the light. The kitchen is a canyon lane. The kettle hums a lonely tune. I’m drifting past the Everest. Of an empty afternoon. The air is thick like silver lead. It settles where you should have slept. I’m counting every mile. Of the promises we kept. From Prague to my chest. I’m waiting for the light. The room is far too wide. The room is far too wide. From Kyoto to the rest. I’m holding on so tight. I’m waiting for the light. I’m waiting for the light. The Mariana in my veins. Deep and cold and blue. Across the Patagonia plains. I’m reaching out for you. (Audible breath) It’s so heavy being still. From Prague to my chest. I’m waiting for the light. The room is far too wide. The room is far too wide. From Kyoto to the rest. I’m holding on so tight. I’m waiting for the light. I’m waiting for the light. The bed is an ocean. The house is a star. I’m waiting right here. Wherever you are.