Damn Sure - Laura Gibson

We covered our bodies in the mud and moss

Drunk on the rhythm of a cricket’s song

We were damn sure about it

And love was a shape in the slippery light

A flame on a moth at moonless night

We were damn sure about it

Caught in the arm of a blue-eyed storm

Rain on cloth on muscle on bone

We were damn sure about it

And love was a half-blurred poem you wrote

The creak in the moan of the hardwood floor

Damn sure about it

We were damn sure about it

We were damn sure about it

We were damn, damn sure about it

We were damn sure about it

Well, I changed my name the day I left

I cut my hair, I hemmed my dress

I was damn sure about it

You were playing piano in an empty room

Ringless finger, a calloused thumb

Damn sure about it

We were damn sure about it

We were damn sure about it

We were damn, damn sure about it

We were damn sure about it

Now I’m lost in the belly of a cold museum

Staring at the beaks on the bird-faced men

Now you’re sitting in the kitchen with someone else

Stacking up peels of your clementines

Damn sure about it

We were damn sure about it

We were damn sure about it

We were damn sure about it

Damn sure about it

Damn sure about it