writing: on pearls & plaid

he played our song tonight

he played it, and he didn't know

and i let it arrest me

it was the first time, since

it was impulsive, and compulsive

and a long time coming, all at once

i braced myself against the opening strains

and there was a pause, without a pang

but the second verse

and the chorus, those are yours

and by the bridge, i can feel you

i can feel you like a slow flood

pouring into every crook of my body

settling in the corners, pooling in the bends

and suddenly it's a parking lot and October and the moon

and a tangle of flannel arms

and one big knot that leaves me unsteady

about which tangles were yours, and which are still mine