I don’t know where you are,
or if I know you yet.
I don’t know if we should go,
We’ll just sit there, folded notes in a teacher’s desk.
I used to think owning property,
meant taking breath in places I’d eventually lose the memory in,
consume all that architecture and the stars you can’t see in the city,
lungs rezoning, intestines unfurling, crack a bone, stack boxes labeled “family”.
Leave your hometowns, it’s just oxygen you’re stealing.
But red eyes just mean I’m seeing rosy,
4 AM flights don’t have a home for me.
“I love you”, I don’t care if it leaves us lonely.
unfold me, if you could,
unfold me before you go.
i just ask that you unfold me.
released June 10, 2014
music written by j. warren and t. gagnon.
all rights reserved