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 bicy-
cle 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 con-
nnecting it made a clear image of a lightening bold through your child-
hood home, like the stories told on your wrist.  tears of white and grey.
i'll never see a brighter star.