I Think We Understand Death

Almost everything worth listening to
Died with The British Invasion.
You are not one of those things.

I think we understand death
In the same way that good children do,
In the same way that cathedral bells sound
On Sunday mornings
When no one pretends not to listen.

Your arms are like chandeliers, and
I am standing watch.
You will not break here.
You will not study the cracks of sidewalks.
You will not let gravity guide the direction of your heart.

Dear You,
Look up at me,
I want to tell you,
“You are sacred.”

You are why stars form in the patterns of lovers.
You are why Cupid fires and never misses.
You are why.

It is so strange to think we are born, and
There is this someone else somewhere
Just waiting for you to find them.
“Why did you take so long?”

There is sunlight dripping across
The pillow where you dream.
I wish I could be wherever it is you are
With you.

What is it about all of this that is making me feel
Like there has been no one or no thing before you?

If God is looking down right now,
I think His cue cards must say something like,
“You deserve it, kid!”, and
I think He is right.

I think it’s good to think.
I think there should be an international day of mourning
For all of those folks who will never know how it feels to be
This close to you.
I think you should make records just so I can hear your voice
When you are away from my ears.
I think we should spend Tuesday afternoons dancing our guts out
Just so Saturday does not think it has the market cornered.

You are sleeping in the soft shape
Of an Elliot Smith song, and
I want to tell you that I have missed your face.

“I have missed your face.”

The Liberation Of Billboards

Someone forgot to tell you
That you are loved.
So, I am here.
I am all of those words
That all of those boys
Should have said, but never did. 
I wonder how many times since you
They have wished they had.
“Sorry Charlies, this gal is mine.”

Have you ever told someone “I love you”
Just to hear how those words felt against your lips?
Me neither.

Last night I had a dream
About falling asleep and dreaming, and
I woke up wondering how it would end.
See, there are only three things in this life I know for sure:
1: Cheap guitars always sound better
2: Things break for a reason, and
3: One day everyone I know will die.

You and me,
We are the kids who are born in the gutter, but
Belong to the stars.
So, let’s do it. 
Let’s put on side one of Led Zeppelin IV, and
Make out like black magic.

Sad boys believe in love
Because of the day you were born.
Did you know that?

What else?

I hope you know there is magic in your air.
I hope you know that your hands are holy.

Convince yourself of this one truth:
Your heart is that light The Smiths sang about.

Let’s do something neither of us will regret.
Let’s paint “Love IS Possible” over every billboard we see, and
Let’s mean it.

There were so many times
I did not know why my heart insisted on beating, and
Now I know.