there’s a girl
missin a boy
who belongs to music and Memphis
and he’s leavin her for parts of New York

sorrow and bitter winds
in the distance between
and a sad song
on the tip of her tongue

he’ll learn
and play to the world
with a voice that throws away dooming clouds
fingering strings that make angels cry sweet canola oil

she wants to think about making him home
about a butterfly that hangs up it’s wings
how her heart will break for him
and the underlying voodoo living in those Memphis walls

he loves the pins in her pockets
her reckless class and the color of her hair
she loves his music meditation
neck ties and fairy tales

she’ll wait around
for him to leave
and if he’s smart
he will

she can only wish for a wisper
in the back of his mind
years from now
backstage
after the after party