And I wonder what this is we're going through,
The thread's deep blue, the needles sting too.

Your calendar strikes on Sunday's light
As my first sun sinks into night.
You sip your coffee, calm and free,
Then leave the cup beneath the tree.
While my lemonade spills, yet I still smile,
Hiding the hurt for just a while.

But these threads pull tight, stay unseen
As the space 'tween us grows too far, too dim.

And when you wake,
You leave me a voicemail to break
"Good morning, lovely!" in your cheery tone,
But I drown in tears when I'm alone.
Your cracking voice still brings me grace—
What an irony, from your cheerful face!

But these threads pull tight, stay unseen
As the space 'tween us grows too...