[Intro — warm, close, unhurried] The apartment learned to echo softer The week you started leaving cups around. [MOVEMENT I — BODY] [Verse 1 — reciprocal, bodily, no warning in the arrangement] Your mouth made the whole room smaller. Then your weight against me made it real. The city sweated on the windows. Your shirt slept somewhere on the floor. You said my name against my neck Like it belonged there for the night. I wanted you without a theory. You wanted me. We left the kitchen light on. [Verse 2 — the body becomes a life] You knew the back way home that skips the highway, The Tuesday place that gets the dumplings right. You laughed at something in my kitchen once, And the walls held onto it all night. I slept. I don't know when that started. The city stopped being a job with a view. I said, "Tell me when you get home." You did. I slept. It was that simple. Love made a home of it. Hunger kept the lights on. [Chorus] There's gravity in your name. I keep falling toward it. Every road bends the same. I let it. I don't fight it. I finally know which way is down— Down is wherever you are. There's gravity in your name. I keep falling toward it. [MOVEMENT II — SEAM] [Verse 3 — one absence; the same tenderness changes function] Then one Thursday stayed quiet. I knew your Thursdays better than my own. By midnight I had made a case from silence And called it knowing what I know. Three dots burned like little candles, Then went dark before the prayer. Silence grew a grammar overnight. I found a meaning everywhere. Scrolling down to find your thread, I passed the older name I never touch. Your coat kept your shape upon the chair. The room remembered you too much. "Tell me when you get home." Once like care. Again like evidence. By the third time it meant answer me, Though every word was still the same. [Bridge — one count beneath the lead, barely audible] (Two hours. Four messages. Read.) You said, “I can't be your whole city.” I heard the windows boarding up. I wanted you. Then I wanted proof That wanting me would never stop. I said the thing designed to make you feel it. You gave me one back. We both meant it a little. [Break — near silence, one held note] No door slammed. Three dots came up. Three dots went down. That's how it closed. [Final Chorus — same melody, colder room] There's gravity in your name. I keep falling toward it. Every road bends the same, And I can't get off it. I finally know which way is down— Down is wherever you're not. There's gravity in your name. I keep falling toward it. [Afterimage — four lines, dry] The coat is still holding your shape. My body turns before I wake. Love made a home of it. Hunger kept the lights on.
