Lyric

Steam curls from the chipped blue mug

Morning folds across the kitchen floor

Your sweater hangs from the chair like a memory

Half-read book turned face down

Saving its place

You hum along to the old news anchor

Not really listening

Just filling the room

Sunlight catches on the dust in the window

Little galaxies drifting between us

You say you’re heading out early today

I nod

Pretending I don’t mind

But my fingers trace rings on the table

Like they’re drawing circles around time

Stay a little longer

Just another story

Tell me how your bus ran late again

Laugh about the neighbor and his roses

Let the kettle whistle one more time

Hide your keys beneath the folded dishcloth

Lose the rush that’s tugging at your sleeve

Stay a little longer

In this quiet morning

So I can learn the shape of how you leave

Your scarf still smells like last week’s rain

Park bench

Grocery bags

Your crooked grin

We argued over nothing by the turnstile

Then shared an apple on the ride back home

I keep your notes behind the sugar jar

Short lines scribbled on torn receipts

“Buy milk”

“Call mom”

And “Don’t forget yourself”

Tiny commandments taped to my days

You stand by the hallway mirror

Fighting with a restless strand of hair

I ask if Friday’s still our movie ritual

You answer

“Maybe

” to the air

Stay a little longer

Just another story

Tell me how the meeting dragged on late

Roll your eyes at all the empty small talk

Let the jacket slide down from your hand

Drop your plans beside the leaning coat rack

Let this narrow hallway be a world

Stay a little longer

In this crowded silence

So I can hear the truth between your words

There were winters when the pipes froze solid

We boiled water on the stove and sang

Wrapped in blankets that never really matched

Yet somehow fit like everything we owned

There were summers with the fan on high

Both of us stuck to the linoleum floor

Talking big about distant

Shining futures

While the ice kept melting in our glass

Stay a little longer

Just another story

Tell me where you go when you’re unsure

Trace the map inside your tired heartbeat

Let your shoulders finally unclench

Drop your doubts beside the crumpled mail pile

Let me hold the weight you always hide

Stay a little longer

In this fading daylight

So I can learn the art of standing by

Years stack up like plates in the cupboard

Chips along the edges

Patterns worn thin

We still argue over nothing in the hallway

Then share a pear at the kitchen sink

The mug cools on its familiar coaster

Shadows climb the painted living room wall

You slip your shoes off slower than you used to

And for once

You do not reach for the clock