this frame of you i imagine is a mason jar of molasses
so slow to pour what's been behind those gasses
but what's been stored for months, i'm stickin to

this frame of you i think of is a screen door portrait of fortune
the latch holding it shut is at least a city away
but the verses live only inches from your face

here in this museum, our walls have space to make with
i have hooks and lines to put up our best takes with
the difference here between ours and other museums
is that here, we can whisper through the walls

this canvas of you i am making is a teenager's pocket of token
and the penny arcade for clumsy games of charm
but the start button's here at the end of my arm

this canvas of you i am painting is all of shades of the ocean
i can't find it in the color wheel anywhere
but when i turn to you, that color stares

here in this museum, our walls have space to make with
i have hooks and lines to put up our best takes with
the difference here between ours and other museums
is that here, we can whisper through the walls
is that here, we can whisper through the walls

thiiiis movie of you i am screening cannot hang on any free wall
it's stuck on the scene when i first saw you sing in that wall
if it's bad you see me, the walls can have whispers