11-29 The Prodigal Son

Thank you.

You gave it back.

Kinds of hurts though,

to feel it beating again.

I can feel your handprints,

frozen, around the edges.

Out of love, of course,

always out of love.

Thank you, though,

I missed, this, I missed…

There’s more I want to say to you,

but I am shy,

but there’s this thing you do,

when you,

the way you turn around and look at me,

as if to say, I had it all along.

I was a fool, kind of,

to give it to you,

but, you held it anyway.

Time has tempered your patience too.

I grew a new one in your absence.

I know you heard it,

All the way up here.

I couldn't help it.

Don’t be mad,

but it was missing this song of yours.

It needs this.

I need this.

Do you think we’ll be friends again?

I can feel yours beating through your chest,

You who loved me first,

I can feel yours.

You who loved me,

and let me love you.

First.

It does feel good to be-

Home.