There is no answer when you stare back why
and convince me there’s a moon I can’t steal,
but when I try the words misunderstand me and come out a lie.

If I knew another language I might reply
with a word that might peal
the silence off my tongue when you stare back why,

then turn and point overhead and say ‘let’s fly
into the vast darkness’, seeing if I’ll make the meaning real
when I answer with words that misunderstand or lie

Our blood would run thicker if I tried to stop the tears you cry
saying ‘yes, I know how you feel’
but I’m unable to answer your eyes when you stare back why

I can only betray with sound the journey you’ll make through the sky;
these grunts and wheezes that will never reveal
my true voice, that will only misunderstand before they lie.

I can only try to be silent when we meet, keep my
lips closed tight like a Mason jar that’s sealed
with an answer for when you find out why
our words misunderstand us but never really lie.


Some Other Kind Of Index