作词：张青柯
作曲：张青柯
Café windows trace the lines we used to write
Your laughter stains the mug like rings of last July
I count the sugar cubes crumbling one by one
Each crystal holds a lie we swore was true
The barista plays that song from our December
Keys keep dangling on my chain, but you’re not the door
Rain taps Morse code on the awning’s shoulder
Spelling out the words I should’ve spoken more
We were pages bound in leather, now scattered in the storm
Ink bleeds through the chapters where our fingerprints were warm
I’m learning how to read the silence between stars
The story’s mine to rewrite these battle scars
Your sweater in my closet grew its own shadow
Threads unraveling the vows we tried to sew
I found my childhood map beneath the floorboard creaks
X marks where I’ll plant new magnolia trees
Midnight drives through neon confession booths
Radio static preaches forgotten truths
The rearview mirror holds ghosts I’m learning to release
Turn signals blink the rhythm of my peace
We were pages bound in leather, now wisdom in the wind
Ink fades but the margins hold where new beginnings spin
I’m dancing through the fire where our library burned
The phoenix wears my name in ashes I’ve earned
Your bookmark’s still in Dante, but I’ve closed that hell
My epilogue’s a sunrise only I can tell
