The Closer I Am

The closer I am to your faded hand the cold inch of air that threatens my bed
Where you used to stand the ghost at my arm the kiss on my neck
So strange this house that I'm in it's not what I meant by those things I said
The frost on the glass the wheels on the road the soft white machine
That holds you between the coming and going the closer I am, the closer I get

The further you drift from this place while I cling to your face in my head
The closer I am to your threaded hand the cold slice of air that holds by my bed
Where you used to stand the closer I am