Stories

Super late.. 

For MNC (haha I am so subtle with my initials.. )

Sit down, friend
and teach me all you know
of the world you've already met,
bought a glass of wine,
and touched her hand
with savage grace and draw
tell me the stories she told you
that only you can know
not that I care to know her
but that your voice carries me home
and that your joyful curiosity makes me good
Rock back, friend,
and let this whicker laugh with us
as you teach me of your travels
and the marvels you met
if I can just watch your eyes
as you remember, with aloed nostalgia,
the feel of wave-washed wood
on a night that sounded soft
and I pray to be timber
in my next life
and I pray to grow old
right here
so all of this is gentle
and sad in the way
train whistles are sad
and the way I'm always sad
because I've never met the world
so I can't tell you stories
she told me that only I can know
and all I can do 
is promise I would tell you 
and wrote ghost-thin stories 
of my own to tell you
that only you can know
and hope you begin to 
drift to sleep
in this white whicker,
sighing with us