Carlos Andres Gomez - Saying Goodnight lyrics

I looked for Superman and he was gone. Out of the rubble, a sepia-stained photograph with a small boy laughing, flanked by four sisters, propped on his father's lap. The ache in my chest felt familiar, wind knocked out, and I could barely watch but hardly turn away as my dad held the phone to his ear like a shell having just lost its ocean sound. His mom, my Abuelita, had gone to bed and he wouldn't be able to see her before we left. This is probably the last time we're going to see Abuelita, he said to s, throwing away the words, with an eerie matter-of-factness, the reserve ducts behind his eyes gently dampening the outskirts of his irises. I knew then that there would never be enough time to say I love you to the ones I protect myself from. When it all cuts so deep you fasten the wounds closed like curtains, afraid that everything will flood out if you open them. I don't want to need an excuse to place my hand softly over my grandmother's shaking knuckles while she watches her telenovelas or hug my sister for too long when I remember how she taught me to taste food with my fingers or say something I might have put off until the last possible second I could. It's hard to see a god lose his grace and suddenly become more beautiful when he falters, the moon like a spotlight amplifying it all. We stood in that dimly lit parking lot below her high rise for far too long, as if the moment had a long awaited answer we would have to earn to take with us. As the time pa**ed, my father's wrinkles deepened in the shadows, his walk crumpled slightly near the car and I opened my mouth to tell him something I'd been building the courage for 12 years to say, forgetting it suddenly, when he turned back around.