On the way back

I still remember the songs that played on the way back from
Dinner with your uncle and aunt, they’d made enough to feed Addis Ababa
I don’t remember their names or the words that we sang to ourselves
Now, all I can feel is the shape of your palm where it lay softly on my arm 
 
All the way,
On the way
Back to
Your parents house
 
I could see hundreds of stars and a space they had saved for us
To hide away from the world and the smoke we inhaled from the cars
I didn’t know all their names but they gave us a song for our own
And all I can feel is the weight of your hair where it lay gently on my arm
 
All the way,
On the way
Back to
Your parents house
 
There’s not a word I can say in your ear to explain what I know,
So let’s fly away from this world to look back from the stars on the drunken forests of Alaska
We can remember the way that we came to this place from our own
If all we can feel is the weightlessness of our own bodies when we lift our arms 
 
All the way,
On the way
Back to your parents house