I found your name in the tray
Under dust and old rain
Yellowed paper, folded small
Like it knew my hand
One key at a time
I keep spelling you back
On this desk, in the dark
Where the ink still clings
And I stop
At the part I miss
Fold my thumb
On a line like this
If I write it plain
Will it pull you near?
I’m writing you back
Writing you back
My hands keep saying your name
I’m writing you back
Writing you back
To the place you left the frame
The ribbon left a faded bruise
On the words I chose
My coffee ring turned the corner
Like a small black moon
I made the page behave
Then I lost my nerve
So I start again
With your first two letters
And I stop
At the part I miss
Fold my thumb
On a line like this
If I write it plain
Will it pull you near?
I’m writing you back
Writing you back
My hands keep saying your name
I’m writing you back
Writing you back
To the place you left the frame
Maybe you won’t open it
Maybe you already did
Maybe the door between us
Only lives in this
Still I leave a little space
At the end of the page
For the things we never said
And the shape of your face
I’m writing you back
Writing you back
My hands keep saying your name
I’m writing you back
Writing you back
To the place you left the frame
