On cloudy days, I think of you.
They make me feel cheesy, lousy, blue.
But I always remember your dreams
And how you wanted to fly up high
And save the stars behind the gray.
On cloudy days, I miss you.
And if it rains, the day tastes like your tears
On top of my tongue
– dark, mysterious, unnamable.
On sunny days, I conjure you.
They make me feel empty, void, crude.
But I always remember your skin,
Your contours and frontiers,
And how you wanted to spare my heart
From all the errors it made.
On sunny days, I miss you.
And if I sing, it’s a tuneless song
Because you are the rhythm, the melody,
The poetry shaping my destiny.
But I am not your home.