Why’d you rattle the windows
When you weren’t coming in?
The grey underneath my nails
Was finally turning pink
And I thought I could melt myself
Into candle wax
And pour my blue soul into a mould
To rise with the fumes.
But you’re here again,
Might as well stay for tea,
I was making some for me.
Your whiskers have turned to ice;
Have you been out too long in the cold?
I didn’t worry.
I don’t think I can anymore.
Old age will do that to you and much else
If you’ll stay that long,
But I’m sure you’ll find your way
To rattle at my windows again.
The walls are fading and so is the paint:
It’s been a while since you’ve been away;
And I thought I could hear the ocean
In the attic
But I’m sure it was just a wave.
I thought it would be a pleasant surprise when you saw me again
But you can see that time cares little for the kind.
Our peaches are dying on the trees,
The lantern won’t burn on anything but moths,
The keys to the locks turn all the way wrong
And the ghost of my body
Is drinking my tea.