Transit of Venus The last time we met I know my face seemed unfamiliar You hadn't seen the way your absence broke me Nor the way I'd mended, scarred and silvered One side pulled blue, stoop of apology Grief is an artist with its painter's eye for detail And its refusal of outside obligations Oh, the details I held onto The violinist on the corner by the window In cowboy boots plays Mozart through an amp Movie themes, Claire de Lune and Some Romantic Evening Brief reprieve from that lion grief The only way to hurt you would have been to tell you That I knew you were not a noble man But I loved you anyway. What good is guilt with no mercy? I have dreamt so strongly of you Walked so, talked so Loved so your shadow Nothing remains of you If he were to die the world would be a room where no one sees her Is a line I read long after you were dead Re-enter the story, fall in love with what's to be here How can it be that there is still suspense? Can I help you now? No