Days That Last for Weeks

I want to write this song between your shoulder blades
but you have wings there growing fresh and tender
and the oil in my fingers would keep you from flying

we make the sweetest music together
like cicadas in the dead of summer
the low, familiar hum of days that last for weeks

and I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you

let me pull a needle and thread through the folds in your skin
and stitch you up next to me
I don’t think my pattern makes much sense without you

I’m not running anymore when my arms find yours
I am the still and quiet of an autumn breeze
you helped me find the things I lost when I was young

and I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you