Lyric

I count the lines across my chest

Small accounts of wanting less

Cold receipts fold into your name

The numbers warm but not the same

Calculation slips into a sigh

We balance out the subtle lies

Leave a thermal ledger on the sill

Notes of night you cannot fill

We reconcile with a softened pen

And close the books on where we began

Numbers fade into the night

We fold the hours into light

Pen strokes map the unseen space

Of moments lost we still embrace

You catalogue the coffee stains

I keep the hush of rented trains

Paper edges fold like quiet vows

We sign the margins of our brows

An extra entry for the hour we lost

We weigh the cost against the cost

Leave a thermal ledger on the sill

Notes of night you cannot fill

We reconcile with a softened pen

And close the books on where we began

Strings swell like ink that runs

Piano hesitates then comes undone

Two voices line by line confess

Then let the ledger keep the rest

Traces run across the page

Softly scripting silent rage

Echoed thoughts in measured tone

We write the ledger on our own

Pages fold into the night, soft piano keeps the hush of closing ink