The cowbell stayed on the deck for ten years.
The girl climbs thirteen steps with a glass in hand.
And a man’s wrist, it breaks thrice in one place.

Lengths of purple string tied around two chairs.
The weather changes the light of a room.
And the cowbell, it stayed on the deck for ten years.

A woman walks to the end of the street and back.
A man’s wrist breaks thrice in one place.
And on the fourteenth stair you land on air and stamp down.

At dusk she pulls the shades down.
The cowbell stayed on the deck for ten years.
I’m lost when I think about you.

A man’s wrist, it breaks thrice in one place.
She lifts the shades to say, “it’s dawn.”
A girl climbs thirteen steps with a glass in hand.