Recessional

"It's so beautiful here," she says
"This moment now and this moment, now"
And I never thought I would find her here
Flannel and satin, my four walls transformed
But she's looking at me, straight to center
No room at all for any other thought.

And I know I don't want this, oh, I swear I don't want this
There's a reason not to want this but I forgot.

In the terminal she sleeps on my shoulder
Hair falling forward, mouth all askew
Fluorescent announcements beat their wings overhead
"Passengers missing, we're looking for you"
And she dreams through the noise, her weight against me
Face pressed into the corduroy grooves.

Maybe it means nothing, maybe it means nothing
Maybe it means nothing, but I'm afraid to move.

And the words: they're everything and nothing
I want to search for her in the offhand remarks
Who are you, taking coffee, no sugar?
Who are you, echoing street signs?
Who are you, the stranger in the shell of a lover
Dark curtains drawn by the passage of time?

Oh, words, like rain, how sweet the sound
"Well anyway," she says, "I'll see you around..."