Another Form

I found your cup behind the glass The handle worn where fingers passed I almost knew the hand it knew Then saw my own had changed there too I kept it where the light stayed low As if that kept the years from going But every time I moved the chair The shape of you was less precise there I don't have to keep the same To know what still remains The mark can change its shape And still belong to what it made I don't have to make you stay To carry what you gave What changes isn't gone It just becomes another form I used to measure what was lost By counting every missing part But absence has a stranger weight It moves the center, not the frame Maybe I was guarding proof Instead of letting meaning move A perfect copy cannot grow It only tells me what I know I don't have to keep the same To know what still remains The mark can change its shape And still belong to what it made I don't have to make you stay To carry what you gave What changes isn't gone It just becomes another form So let the edges rearrange Let what I was become strange If I can recognize the thread I need not resurrect the thread The cup is only what it is My hand is not the hand it missed Still, when I reach for something near A little of you moves me here I don't have to keep the same To know what still remains What changes isn't gone It becomes another form