current music: it's silent, but my head is playing Ne-Yo

Because You Forgot

all the words that I've said,
written, read, every line you needed
in your heart and head, all the letters
dropping from me like crumbs of bread
trailing to safety through a valley of the dead

I write you tonight. Because all these words could do,
every vowel and syllable and silent letter U
is curl the hours back, bridging the gap
of the miles of salt and tears.

If you are cold, haunted by the weightless phantoms
of bodies that have passed over
and pressed against both our bodies, I
will whisper your name,
lighting fires from feet to cheek, till nothing
is left of us but ash. If my hands

cannot be the ones that stroke yours
during those secret seconds of warmth,
I will write you the story
of how your fingers found my shoulders,
molded the stone in my back
into wings. If my lips cannot find yours,

or they are replaced by another's,
I will make poem for your feet
that have flown you away,
and in there, I will kiss them,
turn them to fins, so that you may seek me
beneath the seas that I will have thrown my soul to.
If you cannot find me in your thoughts,

I will will you, Dear, a song, such that the sails
of your mind find me through the muddled
mists of memory covering the sea of our lives.
For if I can remind you of this,

this promise that holds the hands of the sun,
the truth that my tongue
finds itself prying from my teeth, what keeps
the follicles of hair on my forearms
standing, the little secret the silent abyss has always known:
that someway, in some light,

every night I breathe, I will write,
and every night I write you will never be alone.