I Am Game.

Crystal diamonds on a tired lake, my soul refused to stay awake. Mornings presented scrambled eggs, toast, and black tea. Lisa Hannigan sang endless tunes, and I tapped melodies through leathered hands. "I don't know if you can swim, or if the sea has any draw for you. If you're better in the morning or when the sun goes down," We paused for endless answers, for Lisa's questions. I counted stars out the facing window, I brushed tangled hair. Caramel sheets, goosebump-infested legs, heavy quilts. "I don't know if you drive, if you love the ground beneath you. I don't know if you write letters or panic on the phone." I saw two black crows on chipping fence posts. I told you they were beautiful. "I don't know if you read novels or the magazines. If you love the hand that feeds you. I assume that your heart's been bruised."  I watched a sparrow search for home. I talked you into tasting shakes, we listened to fidelity and endured unfinished floors. Natalie said the stars were following us. You could have seen my laugh lines when she said that.