Empirical Proof

[Chorus]
Just a ghost of the torsion, an echo of strain
(3/4) A hairline revision
(4/4) where the memory remains
You’re tracing the blueprint of my old pain.

[Verse 1]
Your thumb on the ridge of that knuckle-bone scar,
The kitchen light buzzes above the new jar
of Lola’s adobo you bought on South Federal.
That August, the asphalt was soft from the heat.

[Verse 2]
"Does it hurt?" you just asked, with your head on my arm,
and I thought of the resonant, false alarm
of a love built on tension, a cantilevered lie.
The storm brewing over the flat Colorado sky.

[Chorus]
Just a ghost of the torsion, an echo of strain
(3/4) A hairline revision
(4/4) where the memory remains
You’re tracing the blueprint of my old pain.

[Bridge]
This is different. It’s not holding my breath.
It’s the quiet that settles after the snow’s depth.
Just the hum of the fridge and your hand on my skin.
A structure I didn't know how to begin.

[Chorus]
Not a ghost of the torsion, no echo of strain
(3/4) It’s a finished revision
(4/4) where your fingers remain
You're tracing the blueprint, washing the pain.

[Outro]
Empirical proof.
Right here on my skin.