Soft Above the Ceiling

Ash on the windowsill

Sun sneaks across the bed

Smoke curls in figure eights

You’re laughing at something I said

Loose socks on the power line

Phone face down

Out of sight

Your hair like a tangled poem

Drifting in the quiet light

We’re just floating

Soft above the ceiling

World below can spin and spin

Slowly breathing

Trading thoughts and feelings

Pull you close

Then out again

If this is wrong

I don’t need a reason

Let the afternoon unwind

We’re just floating

Soft above the ceiling

Losing track of every time

Half-eaten tangerine

Peel like a tiny moon

Playlist stuck on one old song

We hum the same off-key tune (oh yeah)

Paint chips on the window frame

Look like tiny distant towns

You trace roads along my arm

Till both our voices quiet down

We’re just floating

Soft above the ceiling

World below can spin and spin

Slowly breathing

Trading thoughts and feelings

Pull you close

Then out again

If this is wrong

I don’t need a reason

Let the afternoon unwind

We’re just floating

Soft above the ceiling

Losing track of every time