it’s the singer, not the song

if words can contain you

the battle is already lost

the smoke that mingles with breath

in a dive just before 2am

that last note of the evening is held


like a torch lighting the flame

to show which way you go to get to heaven

you are the singer

not the song

so much higher

you take my words

and climb the ladder to the stars

placing an octave on each rung

like breadcrumbs

to find your way back down

you penetrate my pain

on late nights alone

working at my fever

bringing me back to consciousness

someone saved my life tonight

against the backdrop of a burning city

bombs going off in my living room

and heavy artillery being mounted

by neighbors with axes to grind

heard a voice break through

and it reminded me

i knew a singer

and i let her bring me into her arms

and hold me

until i slept

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