Houses down the line
files in and out of time.
The smell of salt and coconut
standing by the beach
faces half remembered
don’t leave that way
like this will be the day
thinking back, how we departed
yeah, this will be the day.
Tomorrow when the sun first rises
I’ll walk down to the water
tomorrow when my eyes first open
I’ll stare at the wall.
tonight I think I’ll take that codeine bottle
take it all the way home
digging down to build a hole in the sand
somewhere cold and dry to rest my weary bones.
The moon shines down like snow
quickly melting off the hood of your car
emergency break pulled up to a gravel skid
slam the door and light a cigarette
something to fill the empty space
between what you deserve and what you get.
When this blows over
when the ship blows out to sea
will I look back on those months with fondness
or sadness over what will never be.