you sent a photograph,
one that' has never faded with time
from the afternoon we spent on the floor
in your bedroom
we dizzied ourselves with the drinks in our hands
and out slurred the words
that are etched in my head and in a recorder
that plays over and over again inside my ears
you brushed the hair out of my face,
and you whispered,
"Hey baby, you look like a star.
I wish I could touch your skin
I wish I could be the ground when you're falling,
so I can catch you the second you drop.
I'll hold you up so your knees won't ache
and your heart won't break.
I'll be your wildflower field that cushions your world
when you collapse
and cradle the oceans and the land
until you feel at home again.
Then I'll pick you up and place you back in the sky
where you shine in my life
like a chandelier."