even when she was in the sheets of another.
the nerve I had to open this book,
on a bus, on a wire, tired of the years that keep going.
wish we could just sit still in time,
because then we will never let death eat us alive.
it's sweet that we will never be,
but can we go back once a year to believe, fix some things.
not for nothing, nothing but truce,
and a way to heal two stupid hearts that kicked each other twice.
I was rooting for her to be the hero
from New York City to Kentucky and forever in between dreams.
Maybe if I whisper her name, I will wake up with her,
just for a moment or a month.