I Don’t Want Your Voice To Move Me

On the eve of your departure
I sat beside you on the kitchen floor
You said darkness has no virtue of its own
It’s only darkness
What is lost is lost
You were tired of metaphor

I once crawled along the ruins
Found you up above the timber line
Where the mountains stood before us like a bride
Narrow wide, the sun was honeycomb
It turned your white hair gold

I don’t want your voice to move me
I don’t want to be cracked open
I don’t want the knot to loosen in my throat
To place a landmine down a rabbit hole
I’m no pale-faced saint
I’m like a dog always barking at a ghost

You know, I don’t go easy
I’ve never made a myth of your disease
I hedged my bets with every soul I ever loved
Except for one
Honey, all I know of hope is throwing stones into the void

I don’t want your voice to move me
I don’t want to be cracked open
I don’t want the broken headlight flicker
The bright pines, the silver sigh, the moon
Behind you
When I find you
Driftwood bones, in fog and smoke
The pull of the yoke, a knotted oak, a joke
A hymn we only spoke and never sung
Those of us born in loss, you know, we only trust the light on the horizon
When I find you
I don’t want your voice to move me