You got older.

Your like is me

or would be, but you're better.

Your song intoxicated my hours

in a basement like a half floor

and I danced,

you kept singing,

you still keep singing

and I forgot it was you and you

are still singing,

the basement exists but

has faded more than you,

and really have you faded?

Your smile is almost

an elder lady's

and I will never meet you

and I feel the loss of your youth as

my loss. We are the

same age, or no, you're slightly

younger.

Your song has accompanied

my heartbreaks and

I never really followed

up on you, your

other music, you see,

this isn't a metaphor.

I can't express what I'm

feeling and this poem

can't help anyone.

Your tunes carry the best kind of power,

and more of that to you.