Lyric

Streetmap in my pocket

Wrong side, crumpled fold

Names I cannot pronounce

But I trace them like a code

You ask, “You lost or looking?”

I say, “Just passing through”

Your eyes do all the talking

I only catch a few

Shared air at the corner

Steam breathing from the grate

Your smile lands like a blanket

On a bed I can’t quite make

We’re speaking

Language for strangers

Soft hands

Over our failures

Kind eyes

Bridging the danger

Loose maps

But we’re standing here

You point me down that side road

Half-words, half-open palms

I follow your direction

Like a rumor into dark

Two trains underneath us

Low thunder in the pipes

Your laugh shakes off the distance

But the names still don’t align

We’re speaking

Language for strangers

Small truth

Under our layers

Brief touch

Quiet and weightless

Loose maps

But we’re standing here

Maybe that’s all we get

This borrowed minute

A nod, a gesture

A door that never finishes closing

I don’t need the right phrase

To feel the way you soften

When you see I’m somewhere

Far from home

Later at the window

City fading into blur

I replay how you waited

Till you knew that I had heard

No story, just a moment

Folded, tucked behind my chest

A kindness I can’t caption

In a tongue I’ve never met

We’re speaking

Language for strangers

Loose maps

Folded like prayers

Slow waves

Crossing the weather

Kind eyes

Saying, “You’re here”