The Burning Side

A little gold has grown into my hand At home, small dreams still reach for it I leave your laughter in the car and sit until the windows clear Then carry in the bread, the milk the ordinary things that need my hands I hold your name behind my teeth a little longer than I should I turn the burning side away from you and let you call the silence cold You move your cup to make me room I nearly put my whole life down A light stays on somewhere behind me I know the hand that leaves it there You fall asleep against my sleeve I miss the hour I said I’d leave I hold your name behind my teeth a little longer than I should I turn the burning side away from you and let you call the silence cold The knots remember willing hands No stranger put me here You reach into the heat for me I draw against the rope The whole house stirs I meant to keep the smoke from you It’s in your hair It’s in your hair I hold your name behind my teeth a little longer than I should You ask me why I’m shaking I say the room is cold tonight