pins and needles

these hills are star studded with wires
tangled and fraying and living on fire
from lugging lightning bolts for miles

lying here tangled in spread sheets
worn out and breathless in the summer heat
wrapped up in repetitive humidity

one day mountains will stand straight up
and throw off the pins and needles we stuck
we’ll build our new homes in their giant footsteps
and wade into water up to our necks

I’ll sing you a spiral when the trumpets play
when the moon hangs orange all day
and I strain to hear every word you say

when the fog comes through and it’s raining for days
you wear leaves like a jacket and you cover your face
I left the lights of the city for that old mountain haze

one day mountains will grey and fade
and shed the sun-soaked beds we made
we’ll trace the ridges of their silhouette
and sketch the shape of the day they left

I don’t know when the weather turns
when you wake up in fits and starts
or walk out in a flash of sparks
I don’t when I’ll see you again

one day mountains will come crashing down
with a shattering rain, on this plastic town
when we find our words waterlogged and broken
we’ll find new bodies to walk around in