Strat

We could have left it at the store
To shine forever from behind a pane of glass
Enticing our imaginations every time we passed
Sending us on what-if journeys
That always sparkle
And never stain
But we had to take it home.

We could have left it in the box
Accruing worth until it ripened to a fortune,
Then went off to some collector
To shine forever from behind a pane of glass,
A safety barrier between what if
And what was,
But we had to take it out and touch it, hold it, play it,
Know that it was ours.
Ours. Ours.
We could have hung it on the mantle,
Rubbed it down in wax and let it sit preserved.
A relic holding stories stained in love and beauty,
Fixed forever high, visible and honored
A reminder of a song so soothing we would cover it in gloss
Before what is was burned into what was,
Before the cracks began to crawl along an edge
Before it all got so warped by thick, wet air and stress
And the tune went sour.