Delicate

She looked like a fifties greaser in the tradition of k.d Lang, back when k.d Lang looked like the kind of girl you wouldn't take home to your mother, before she had you singing hallelujah. And what did that mean anyway? Why had she chosen those words to say to me at that time? Because I knew that everything she said, it had meaning, and that's what I liked about her, perhaps that's what I liked a little too much.

She was the kind of sexy that made you sigh because girl you were in so much trouble. And like k.d Lang, she had a way of singing about loss and longing that seemed to connect only with me, and when she stopped singing, when it was quiet, that was when I finally learnt what it was to lose.

There's always been this incredible distance between my heart and  my mind, there had to be, because I could not stop my heart from wanting what my mind knew I couldn't have. I'm still waiting for my hallelujah moment, and I know it should have come sooner, it should have come by now. I know what it is to feel too much and I know what it is to feel nothing at all, and she understood this in a way that made me think she did too.

Hallelujah is what she said to me, but I couldn't let those words be our last because I didn't know why she was saying them, I didn't know why she was leaving and I didn't know why my last image of her was my hands running through her hair, her baby face revealed, blue eyes that had lost so much.

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?