tears of white and grey fall upon your handle-bars and 
mix in with the rain. oh what a day. you'd never seen a 
brighter star, you'd never be the same. cause when we 
touch, the shadow of a bicycle is no more beautiful than 
us. so at dusk, meet me on old summer road in the autumn 
cold to talk. kid genius, you built me a radio, said when 
i feel alone, turn it on, and i'll find you there 
somewhere with a tinfoil smile or like a star. with no 
one ever there you'd laugh each time they didn't care but 
now your sides ache and i came too late. with glitter in 
your eyes you'd laugh each time you would've cried but 
now your sides ache. you laughed until the tears came. 
and now you've gone away, and in a little room i dream of 
you and the picture in my brain doesn't fade like the 
circles of a radio signal float out into space. and 
before you lfet you came and hung a string of lights 
around my bike as i slept. a sweet planet where fireflies 
zoom like a hundred moons around your room in orbit is my 
wish, and a ten-foot-tall mirror-ball hung from city 
hall. and good magic. my constellation kid, i plotted the 
routes you'd traveled through and the line i drew 
connnecting it made a clear image of a lightening bold 
through your childhood home, like the stories told on 
your wrist. tears of white and grey. i'll never see a 
brighter star.