Golden Joinery

[Verse 1]
The seven-year lacquer on our cypress floor is new.
Your blueprints for the Algiers ferry are, too.
Every cell that loved you then has been replaced by now,
a different body learning to keep the same old vow.
The heat from the pavement on Chartres Street in July...
that me is a ghost I just passed by.

[Chorus]
This isn't the same ship we first set sail in.
My faith is the anchor, your hand is the grain.
It's a beautiful fracture, a holy repair,
the same golden joinery holding us here.

[Verse 2]
That tiny scar above your eye from '17 is gone.
We drink a different coffee now to greet the hazy dawn.
I see you sketching cantilevers in the kitchen's early light—
you said, "You trace a different map of me at night."
I press my cheek against the seam of this new skin I'm in
and wonder where you end and where I begin.

[Chorus]
This isn't the same ship we first set sail in.
My faith is the anchor, your hand is the grain.
It's a beautiful fracture, a holy repair,
the same golden joinery holding us here.

[Bridge]
Some would call this wreckage, a vessel rebuilt from loss.
I call it devotion, whatever the cost.

[Outro]
A new ship, an old harbor.
The same golden joinery.