Anne O’Malley and the Event Horizons

The morning came in on the water
And laid its gold across the sand
I was a girl beneath the broadcast
With my transistor in my hand
The signal hummed a kind of hymnal
The frequency was warm and wide
And all I wanted was to follow
The voice that sang from the other side

Carry the lantern down
Carry the lantern down to the shore
Promethean fire
Promethean fire
I never held a light like this before

I brought it home and set the table
I called them in from every room
They gathered close and saw their faces
Glowing in the afternoon
They took the light and made it theirs now
They sang it back in every key
And in the warmth of what I'd given
I couldn't find a place for me

Carry the lantern down
Carry the lantern down to the shore
Promethean fire
Promethean fire
I never held a light like this before

The beach at night is just a rumor
The tide pulls syllables away
I built a room from all that music
And couldn't leave and couldn't stay
Who do you sing to when the singing
Is the thing that holds you to the stone?
The waves don't answer, they just take things
And give you back your voice alone

The morning came in on the water
The way it did when I was young
But now I know the gold was moving
Before the song was ever sung
I didn't steal it, I just stood there
I didn't carry it, it came through
The fire goes wherever fires go
And I was just the avenue

Carry the lantern down
Carry the lantern down to the shore
Promethean fire
Promethean fire

I never held a light…

I climbed the stairs but something's funny
They went up and then went in
The lifeguard waved but she was waving
From underneath my own skin
The water's warm, the sun is yellow
The line behind me loops ahead
I saw my towel on the railing
From the other side instead

Take me down the Klein bottle water slide
Where the outside is the inside and the inside opens wide
(Outside, inside, inside, outside, oh woah)
I was on top of the water
Then the water was on me
And I never crossed a line
I just forgot where it would be
Oh, woa-oh-oh-oh

Halfway down I saw me coming
The other way along the curve
We locked eyes and started laughing
At the same moment, same nerve
The tube is clear and I can see through
To the swimmers in the pool
But am I looking out or inward?
(Out or inward?)
The glass is nobody's, the glass is nobody's fool

Take me down the Klein bottle water slide
Where the outside is the inside and the inside opens wide
(Inside, outside, outside, inside, oh woah)
I was on top of the water
Then the water was on me
And I never crossed a line
I just forgot where it would be

There's a flat part where the ride stops rushing
And you float inside the glass
And you think: where is the door here?
And the door says: I'm the glass
And the glass says: I'm the water
And the water says: I'm you
And you'd panic but the sun is
Coming through from somewhere
And it's warm
And it's blue

voices stacking in, handclaps on the backbeat
Kline-a-bop, kline-a-bop, wah-da-slide
Bot-a-lee, bot-a-lee, wah-da-slide
Kline-a-bop, kline-a-bop, loop-de-loop
Bot-a-lee, bot-a-lee, loop-de—

—slide-a-wah, bot-a-lee
Kline-a-bop on the inside
Slide-a-wah, bot-a-lee
Kline-a-bop on the out—

—side is the inside, bot-a-lee
Loop-de-loop-a-kline-a-lee

Wah-da-loo, let it through
Wah-da-loo, let it through

Let it through… let it through…

I reached the bottom but the bottom
Was the top where I began
My swimsuit's inside out, I think,
Or else my skin is — hard to tell, man
The kid behind me is the kid ahead
We wave across the fold
The ride goes on because it has to
A surface can't be told

Take me down the Klein bottle water slide
Where the outside is the inside and the inside opens wide
(Outside, inside, inside, outside, oh woah)
I was on top of the water
Then the water was on me
And I never crossed a line…

…Take me down, take me down…
Inside out, outside in
Kline-bop-a-bop-a-kline
Begin again

The signal came from so far out
I never saw the star it came from
Just the sound — a layered hymn
Arriving like it knew my name once
I built my years inside its frequencies
I learned to hear the way it hears
A chord that opens like a corridor
That took a thousand light-years getting here
And then — mid-phrase — the silence
Not static, not the fade of distance
Silence in the shape of what was singing
Silence with the signal's signature

Brian's gone
Oh, Brian's gone
And the harmonics still ring in the walls
Is it him or is it echo?
Is it light or is it memory of light?
The source is gone
And I'm still listening
To a frequency with no one on the other side tonight

I sent transmissions back for years
My own songs aimed at his coordinates
But distance doesn't work like conversation
And a star can't hear its own illuminate
He never knew I was receiving
He was burning — that was all he did
And I was just a world that happened
To be turning in the path of what he shed
I harmonized with his emissions
I built rooms from his refractions
I was made — in some real sense — of his light
And his light was never trying to make me

The source is gone
The source is gone
And the harmonics still ring in the walls
Is it him or is it echo?
Is it light or is it memory of light?
The source is gone
And I'm still listening
To a frequency with no one on the other side tonight

The last of what he'll ever send
Is already traveling or already here
Every wave crest has been crested
Every photon's in the clear
The archive is the size of everything
He said and it is sealed and it is done
A star's complete output is a number
And I have received the sum
I keep pressing my ear to the frequency
Like the frequency might have one phrase left
But a signal from a dark star
Is just the memory of burning
Traveling on its own behalf

But I was building something in my station
Just a sequence, just a phrase, a little thread
And I heard it underneath my own composing —
His intervals alive inside my bed
Of sound — his architecture in my architecture —
Not a copy, not a replay, something grown
The way a planet keeps the warmth of a star
Long after the star is only known
By light that left a thousand years before
The last observer turned away
I am not the signal, I'm what the signal
Became when it hit my atmosphere and stayed
I am not ready to be a source
I'm not ready but the channel's open wide
And I think that's how it was for him —
He was just a world that learned to sing
From the star on its other side

Brian's gone
Oh, Brian's gone
And the harmonics have taken their own shape
It's him and it's the echo and it's me now
A new signal in the old signal's wake
The source is gone
But I'm transmitting
And somewhere someone's just begun to hear tonight

I built a chord no one could tune to
I sent it out along the wire
And every receiver on the frequency
Just returned it like a misfired flare
It wasn't wrong — I heard it clearly
Every interval in place, every voice aligned
But clarity's no use when the air between you
And the nearest ear is the width of time
I set the table, I lit the room
I pressed the broadcast into the black
And what came back was not an answer
What came back was my own signal
Sent back unread, sent back intact

I'm waiting for the world to catch up with me
But the world is where it is and I'm where I'll be
The room is set, the music's playing
Every chair is empty as a frequency
That nobody's learned to hear
I'm waiting for the world to catch up with me

The others sing on current channels
Their music lands in real-time ears
They fill the room the day they build it
Their signals don't take years and years
And I watch them from my strange coordinates
And I love the way their voices carry home
And I wonder in the long hours past midnight
Whether I'm a lighthouse or just a stone
That thinks it's shining — just a stone
That hums and calls it light
The difference between a prophet and a frequency
That no one needs is only ever visible in hindsight

I'm waiting for the world to catch up with me
But the world is where it is and I'm where I'll be
The room is set, the music's playing
Every chair is empty as a frequency
That nobody's learned to hear
I'm waiting for the world to catch up with me

How long has it been from in here?
The clocks along the corridor disagree
A year inside my studio
Is a decade on the other side of me
Or is it the reverse — have I been building
For a single afternoon
While the world aged past my window
Past my atmosphere, past my moon?
The gap has no dimension I can measure
The gap is not a distance, it's a phase
I'm not ahead, I'm not behind
I'm just vibrating in a place
The world will either find or won't
And I can't see it from inside the wave

And then — a signal back — from somewhere
A single voice tuned to my key
Someone built a receiver in the dark
And heard me, heard the chord, and said: I see
And I wept the way a lighthouse weeps
When a ship finally rounds the cape
But by the time the light was answered
I was broadcasting from a different shape
I'm here now, I'm not there
The world arrived at where I was
And I was glad, I was so glad —
But I was already building new rooms
In a silence just as vast

So I stopped waiting
I didn't stop singing, I stopped waiting
The gap is just the gap
The signal goes out because the signal goes out
And the landing is not my half of the map

I'm not waiting for the world to catch up with me
The world is where it is and I'm where I'll be
The room is set, the music's playing
And if the chairs are empty, they're empty gracefully
I'm a frequency
The world will learn to hear or just a song
That sang itself across the dark for free
Either way — either way —
The singing is the thing
The singing was always the thing

Nightside, topside, the air is fast and sweet
The road is a ribbon through the ridgeline
And I'm gone — I'm a blur, I'm just heat
And velocity and the hum of the line
The hills come in flashes, the lights streak by
The world is a smear of gold and black
And up there — up there — skipping along the sky
The moon is on my track
It hops the rooftops, hits the ridge
And sails across the gap
It drops behind a tower and it's back again —
It's back again — like that

I'm watching the moon bounce
All along the skyline
Bouncing like it's tethered to the hood of my ride
I'm watching the moon bounce
And everything is fine
Everything is speed and air and sky tonight
Moon bounce — moon bounce —
All along the skyline

There's someone on the parallel road
Running the same direction, same speed
I see their lights, they see mine
We don't wave — we don't need
We're both watching the same moon bouncing
Between us on the ridge
Two travelers, one sky, one stone
Skipping like a heartbeat on a bridge
And the harmonies thicken and the night gets wide
And the road keeps unfurling at the seam
And I think this is what joy sounds like
When joy has room to scream

I'm watching the moon bounce
All along the skyline
Bouncing like it's tethered to the hood of my ride
I'm watching the moon bounce
And everything is fine
Everything is speed and air and sky tonight
Moon bounce — moon bounce —
All along the skyline

And it's always been doing this, hasn't it?
On every world with a rim and a road
Every species that ever moved through a night
And looked up and saw the stone
Skipping along their horizon
Like it loved them, like it chose to stay —
The oldest show, the simplest show
And it's playing right now and it plays and it plays
A billion years ago on a world I'll never name
Something drove beneath its moon and felt exactly this
Parallax is parallax is parallax
And joy is the thing that doesn't miss

So I push it — faster now — the engine sings
The air peels back like laughter from the frame
And the moon keeps up — it always keeps up —
That's the whole impossible beautiful game
You can't outrun the moon, you can't lose the moon
It's loyal to every fool who drives
It's the biggest friend in the sky and it's bouncing
Bouncing, bouncing — alive, alive, alive
It doesn't care how fast I go
It doesn't care where I've been
It just bounces on the skyline
Like a heart that won't stop beating
Like it knows me, like it's grinning

I'm watching the moon bounce
All along the skyline
Bouncing like it's tethered to the whole of my life
I'm watching the moon bounce
And everything is fine
Everything is speed and air and sky tonight
Moon bounce — moon bounce —
All along the skyline
Moon bounce — moon bounce —
I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive tonight

I’m dropping through the marble-swirl, the pressure’s getting high
Beneath the velvet curtains of a sunset-colored sky
My board is humming liquid-low, it’s biting at the mist
On a world where solid ground is just a thing that don't exist
I’m carving through the methane-white, a ghost inside the gale
With a thousand miles of nothingness beneath my silver trail.
I've been chasing this since the first time that I fell
Through a color I can't name into a feeling I can't tell
To anyone — they'd say it's just the nitrogen, the height —
But I know what my hands looked like when the blue got bright

And it’s bright, sharp, fleeting
Like a heartbeat in the storm
Yeah, it’s bright, sharp, fleeting
Where the lightning’s keeping warm
I’m a spark across the gas-belts
I’m a ripple in the deep
Running on a promise that the gravity won’t keep.

The bands are turning copper-gold, the vortex starts to spin
I’m leaning on the hurricane to feel the static skin
There’s a roar of frozen thunder where the different layers meet
I can feel the planet’s engine thrumming underneath my feet
No map to tell me where I am, no compass for the soul
Just the rush of falling upward while I’m losing all control.
And I know it's gonna leave me — it was leaving when it came —
Every time I drop the cream band it's the same, the same, the same —
One breath of something perfect and the amber takes it back
And I surface with my hands still shaking, reaching for the crack
Between the colors where it lives — where it lived — where it was —
I come back because I come back because I come back because

(Shoo-raaa… shoo-raaa… sha-ha-ha…)
(Faa-loo-ree… faa-loo-ree…)
(Hah-hey! riding the rising stream)
(Hey-yah! faster than a dream)
(Whirl-a-whirl-a-whirl-a-way)
(Sigh-ya-sigh-ya silver spray)
(Shoo-bai, shoo-bai, sailing high)
(Through the painted upper sky)
(Ha-looo… ha-looo… we go spinning free…)

And it’s bright, sharp, fleeting
Like a heartbeat in the storm
Yeah, it’s bright, sharp, fleeting
Where the lightning’s keeping warm
I’m a spark across the gas-belts
I’m a ripple in the deep
Running on a promise that the gravity won’t keep.

The pressure wants to crush me to a diamond at the core
But I’m staying in the shallows where the wind begins to roar
Just a moment in the violet, just a second in the gold
Before the colors fracture and the atmosphere takes hold.
And I'll never reach the bottom — there's no bottom here to reach —
Just a deeper shade of beautiful forever out of reach
And I know that's why I love it — God, I know that's why I stay —
It's the only thing that feels the way that feeling's supposed to feel
And it won't — and it won't — and it won't — and I drop in anyway

Bright… Sharp… Fleeting…
(Tracing lines in the ammonia tide)
Bright… Sharp… Fleeting…
(Let the orbit slide, let the orbit slide…)

The corridor comes first — it always does —
The light arrives before the walls
Not sunlight, not the station white
A color that the waking world lets fall
Between its frequencies, a shade
That only lives where sleep has built a door
And I know the turn, I know the arch
I know the sound the air makes on this floor
My feet know where to go before my mind does
My hands remember what the railing feels like here
And something in my chest unclasps, unfastens —
A lock I must re-lock each time I wake
Unhooks itself, and I can breathe
The way I breathe in no other place
And I think: oh — I'm back — I'm back —
I know this light, I know this grace

Back in the same dream
The same halls, the same sky
Back in the same dream
Where I don't have to try
To be the thing I am here
I just am, I just arrive
Back in the same dream
The most alive I'll feel alive

The window shows the color that doesn't exist awake —
A violet that leans toward a sound, a gold that has a weight
I've watched this sky for years now — visit after visit —
It has its own slow seasons and its own slow light
And things I've left are here — not objects — more like
Impressions, notes I hummed that took on shape and height
The dream has rooms I didn't build on purpose
They grew from all the pieces I left behind at night
This place is partly me — I furnished it
The way you furnish somewhere without knowing —
With every long exhale, with every secret
I couldn't carry back into the morning

Back in the same dream
The same halls, the same sky
Back in the same dream
Where I don't have to try
To be the thing I am here
I just am, I just arrive
Back in the same dream
The most alive I'll feel alive

And now the pull — the thinning at the edges —
The corridor is losing its resolve
I try to memorize the light, the angle
The color of the sky before it solves
Itself back into darkness, back to waking —
My hands are reaching for the wall
But the wall goes soft, the railing fades
And I'm holding nothing, holding the fall
Back into morning, back into weight
Back into light that's just light, air that's just air
I wake with the ghost of the corridor
Still mapped on the inside of my stare
And I carry it — all day I carry it —
A place behind my eyes I can't quite see
And all day long I'm just a woman
Waiting to go home to somewhere no one else has the key

I just live with this secret: that the realest place I know
Is a place that I can only reach by letting go
And that the life I live in waking
Is the life I live in waiting
For the dream to take me back

Back in the same dream
The same halls, the same sky
Back in the same dream
Where I don't have to try
To be the thing I am here
I just am, I just arrive
(and the corridor is assembling — the light is returning — the color that doesn't exist is starting to bloom —)
Back in the same dream
Back in the same dream
I'm back

I had a star — you know I did — I'd charted it for years
A tiny point in the far quadrant, mine, bright and clear
And you had yours — a different light, a different sky
We were aimed apart, we were parallel lines
That should have just gone by

But we met out in the deep between
Where neither star could pull
And something in your frequency
Made all my instruments go full
And I turned — and you turned —
Not toward each other's stars
But toward a point between
That neither of us would have chosen
But both of us could mean

Halfway happy
Halfway to the place I planned
Halfway happy
With your hand inside my hand
It's not everything I wanted
But it's everything we've got
And the halfway point's the only point
Where I'm with you, so I stopped
Halfway happy
Halfway happy
And your hand is in my hand

We built a life at the midpoint
A kitchen and a course
Your coffee in the morning
Mine at night, our small and steady force
Of habit — how you hum off-key
When you're calibrating scopes
How I leave my boots beside the airlock
How we've learned each other's hopes

The way the viewport on your side still faces where you aimed
I see you look sometimes — you don't say anything
You don't need to; I look out mine the same
And what would we say? I love you And I miss the place I didn't go?
Both true, both impossible
Both quiet, both slow

Halfway happy
Halfway to the place I planned
Halfway happy
With your hand inside my hand
It's not everything I wanted
But it's everything we've got
And the halfway point's the only point
Where I'm with you, so I stopped
Halfway happy
Halfway happy
And your hand is in my hand

At night when you're asleep I look toward my star
And it's still there — smaller now, but sharp and far
And I think: the other half of happy —
The half I didn't keep —
Is it better than this half? Is it brighter?
Is it something I could hold alone without it
Cutting into sleep?

But the other life is easy to imagine
Because I never had to live it
Never had to test it against morning
And the dishes and the way you always give it —
Give everything — the last of the coffee,
The better viewport, the kinder word —
And I think: a perfect happiness
That no one else can feel with you
Is just a song that no one's heard

Your star can't hold me — mine can't hold you
That's the math, that's the deal, that's the whole design
The only coordinate in all the black
Where both of us can stand is on this line
This halfway line, this neither-place
This kitchen built in open space
This bed that's aimed at no one's star
But holds us — holds us — here we are

And here is not the place I planned
And here is not your promised land
But here has you, and here has me
And the halfway point's the only point
Where love has room to be

I thought that happy was a place
That you arrive at on your own
But happy is a frequency
That takes two voices to become a tone

Halfway happy
Halfway to the place we planned
Halfway happy
With your hand inside my hand
It's not everything we wanted
It's not either of our stars
But the halfway point's the only point
Where I know where you are
Halfway happy
Halfway happy

And your hand is in my hand

They handed me a form — it said check one
Are you the ocean or the sky?
I held the pen, I looked at both the boxes
And I laughed and couldn't tell you why
Except that neither box was big enough
And both of them were true
I am the thing that dives and the thing that lifts
I'm the grip and the breakthrough
I'm the thing your list
Doesn't have a line for — and I used to think
That meant I was the flaw
But the flaw was in the limited way you think

You said choose the air or sea
Choose what you are allowed to be
But I am tentacles and wings
The deep that climbs, the sky that sings
Tentacles, tentacles, tentacles
And wings

The taxonomists are furious —
They've got a form, they've got a file
Check one box says the universe
And I say: honey, that's not my style
Am I a thing from the deep? Am I a thing from the sky?
I'm both the hello and the goodbye

You called it wrong, you called it strange
But all you meant was “you cannot change”

The ink is dry, but the soul is wet
I haven’t even shown you my best trick yet!
They want to pin me like a moth to a board
To categorize the parts they can’t afford
But you can’t file the lightning, you can’t shelf the tide
And you can’t cage a thing with nowhere left to hide!

You said choose the air or sea
Choose what you are allowed to be
But I am tentacles and wings
The deep that climbs, the sky that sings
Tentacles, tentacles, tentacles
And wings

So I’ll tear up the paper, I’ll shred every sheet
Until the abyss and the stratosphere meet
I’m a tangle of muscle and a shiver of lace
I’m the wet, heavy gravity and the silence of space

Yeah, I’m the reach and the range, I’m the salt and the slip
I’ve got a sky-spanning wing and a galaxy-grip!
Don’t tell me to choose, don’t ask me to swing
Between the crawl of the arm and the rush of the wing
I’m the "None of the Above," I’m the "All of the Above"
I’m the terrifying shape of a brand new love.

So keep your boxes. Keep your lines
I’m busy redesigning all your grand designs.

I choose the air; I choose the sea
Choose everything I can possibly be

Because I am tentacles and the wings
The deep that climbs, the sky that sings
Tentacles, tentacles, tentacles
And wings

The nebula is filling up the glass
Amber dust and silver where the new stars pass
Through the cloud they're burning into shape
We're drifting through the color with the engines off
The silence is so wide you could wrap it like a cape
Around the two of us
Around this little room
Where the only sound's the hum beneath the hull
And your breathing in the blue-and-amber bloom
And I could name it — I could try —
I could point and say that light, that fold, that shade
But every word I'd pick would be smaller
Than the thing we're watching being made

(Don't) don't say anything
You could say anything to me, you know you could
You could tell me the worst thing, the weird thing
The thing you've kept under the hood
Of every sentence you've half-started
But right now — right now —
Don't say anything
The quiet's got a heartbeat
And I don't want to let it down
(Don't) don't say anything
The silence is so loud

We've said so much already, you and me
The 4 AM confessions and the fights
That cleared the air like storms clear out a sky
We've said the hard thing and the true thing
And the thing that made us cry
And the thing that made us stay
And every word we've traded built this room
Where we can sit inside the quiet
And the quiet's not a tomb
It's a house — it's got our voice-prints in the walls —
Every fight, every whisper, every call
Built the trust that lets us just stop talking
And let the nebula say it all

(Don't) don't say anything
You could say anything to me, you know you could
You could tell me the strangest thing, the scared thing
I'd hear it, and I would
Hold it like I hold this silence — gently —
But right now — right now —
Don't say anything
The quiet's got a heartbeat
And I don't want to let it down
(Don't) don't say anything
Don't say anything

(barely there — the hum of the ship, the light from the viewport painting the room)
The nebula is dust that's learning how to shine
It hasn't made its stars yet, it's all becoming
All potential, all the light before the light defines
Itself as something you could name —
And that's where we are
In the glow before the word
In the feeling before the sentence
In the place where everything is heard
Without a single thing being said
The universe was quiet for a billion years
Before it found its voice
And look what it made with the silence

Put your head right here — yeah, there — that's good
I can feel your breathing slow against my chest
The viewport's throwing colors on your skin
Amber, silver, blue — you're wearing the nebula
Like a vest made out of dust and everything
We haven't said tonight
Your heartbeat and the hum beneath the hull
Are having a conversation I can't follow
But I think it's the most honest one
In this room — the most tender, the most full —
Two rhythms finding each other in the dark
And neither one needs a single word
Just the weight of you against the weight of me
And the color of a star that hasn't happened yet
Drifting across your shoulder
Drifting across the quiet we've become

(Don't) don't say anything
You could say anything — anything — and I'd stay
But the silence is a language now
It's the thing we built from every word we've ever dared to say
So don't — don't say anything
The quiet's got a heartbeat
And it sounds like yours and mine
(Don't) say anything
(Don't) say anything
The nebula keeps turning
And we've got time
We've got so much time
Don't say anything

Columnated light in the cathedral of the fall
Where the clocks go amber, go tremolo, go to prayer
I'm descending through the stained-glass gravity
Each layer of the universe a color that I wear
And shed — and wear — the frequencies undressing
As the well gets deep, as the well gets kind
The stars are braiding overhead
Into a circlet — tightening — a diamond-threaded mind
That knows me better than I knew the song
While I was the throat of it — while I was the sound —
The architecture of the everything I was
Is showing its design from the inside of the ground
Velvet mathematics — the curvature is singing —
Every geodesic genuflects and bends
The light I left behind is climbing
Longer, redder, embarrassed at the ends
Of what it can't unsay — my wavelength
Is a love letter the gravity is reading
Slower, slower, stretched across the rim
Where time is a cathedral and the cathedral's bleeding
Color from the inside out

But I don't want the building, I want the wet paint
I want the hallway where my hand was still deciding
Where to put the window in
I want the draft, the doubt, the hiding
Of the melody inside the mess of trying
I want the morning I didn't know the ending
When the circle sky was wide and unconsoling
And I was small beneath it and the song was still ascending
I can feel the circle closing now
A jewel of everything I've been
And it's so beautiful it's breaking me
To see it whole and know I can't get in
The moon is in there — and the blue —
The silence and the fire and the rim
Of every color I have ever fallen through
All collapsing to a hymn
Too bright to hold
Too small to enter
Too complete to wound
And I'm still falling and I'm reaching for it
And it's afternoon — it's always afternoon —
In the cathedral where the light
Came through the glass and found my hand
And I didn't know the shape yet
I was just inside the grand
Unfinished thing — the gorgeous unfinished thing —
And now it's —

It's perfect now (Perfect, perfect now)
It's perfect now (Now, now)
The hand let go and what it held (held)
Is still somehow (Perfect now)
It's perfect now
I didn't want it yet
The shape survived the shaping
And the light survived the set
It's perfect now
The circle sky came down
To a single star that holds
Every song and every sound
I ever made
I ever was
I ever meant
And I can see it
And I can't get back inside of it
It's perfect now (Perfect, perfect now)
It's perfect now (Now, now)

It's perfect now
(it's perfect now)
It's perfect now
(the child is the shape of the hand)
It's perfect now
(the song is the shape of the throat)
It's perfect now
(the light is the shape of the fall)
(and underneath, barely audible, the last line, spoken more than sung)
And the fall was so beautiful
And I didn't know
And I didn't know
(That's what made it beautiful)
That I didn't know
(But it's still beautiful)
Now that I know
(the point of light —)
(one single star —)
(everything —)
(held —)