On New Year’s Eve last December,
I was out on tour playing a show at the Fire in Philadelphia
while you were all alone at home
(the only body occupying our lonely apartment)
I watched the TV through the window from outside the bar
and counted down the seconds to the new year with you
over the phone
But I couldn’t kiss you at midnight
I couldn’t hold you in my arms
The sound of your voice was weighted,
like the way a branch heavy with snow bows down
before it breaks
Is this still worth putting our lives on hold for?