When I take out the garbage at night, I'm not with you then, exactly
I'm with the universe, and with the lightning and thunder coming in over the mountains

But when I walk back into the house, looking up at the window from the back step
The dark window of the room that you died in, the big empty room on the second floor

Cold, because I won't close the window, just in case something still needs to leave
I stand in the yard and look up, and the dark rectangle blares your face

All of our moments condensed into a thunderclap
When I take out the garbage at night and then have to go back in and live on