Jan 25, 2014

Coming down off coffee is the wurst

The number of things that she said, she said, she said.  Was someone counting?  I wasn't.  Should I have been?

Mouth opens.  Vocal chords vibrate, together.
Apart. Dissonance.
Tongue moves, teeth clack.
Palavråo.

Knowing within instants if this is a song that you're going to like.
Knowing within minutes if this is a gig you're going to like.
Knowing within hours if this is a day you're going to like.
Knowing within days if this is a year you're going to like.
Knowing within a heartbeat...  a breath... a flash of the strobe light... if this dance is forever.

 *interlude beat drop*
 *power outage*

No one sees me.  No one knows me.  And so no one becomes me.

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