With a name unclear
You could disappear among a million stars
In collector lanes
And commuter trains that feel so cattle-car anonymous
While the memories and the poetry
Attest that we were here
There's a counterpoise
There's a little voice that whispers in your ear "well, maybe not."
But I can boast, you're not a ghost, no, you're a miracle
All down the lane I hear your name, fragile and lyrical
The telltale hints your fingerprints
All the long sustains
And the phantom pains that we still feel but never
Dare to talk about
Bare to let 'em out, above the sports and weather comatose
Every moon and sun
A quotidian tugging at the fetters
Of your little seams and unspoken dreams
Like those unopened letters undisclosed
So if you bleed, and if you leave well, I'll shed tears for you
And though it's grey, if you stay then I'll be here for you
But if you go I hope you know
I'll see you before I wake
And in every nameless breath I take
Of my high ideals
That were only real, reflected in your eyes
Just a tune remains, like an old refrain
A dusty lullaby left unsung
All my words deployed
Like a stranger's voice, drifting lost and languid
The eponymous, dark and ominous
Trips like a foreign language on my tongue
Just once again, call out my name so I can bury it
This little corpse is just like yours
Why should you carry it?
And we'll defame, and betray those names that failed to honour us
(they're only hollow words)
Because it's so, you're how I know I'm not anonymous