I’ve seen a girl

Now could you imagine the pictures if I were a fiddle player? Silences deceiving with fruit so full and pretty. Light sinking into the velvet and gleaming off the wood. I’ll figure this out sometime. I have yet to pay attention when I take them, but I could watch myself in a digital mirror to send you something finally worth looking at. Feedback delicious.

I’m reading The Wasp Factory by washed out light while waiting for the reply to my letters. I just realized that my inner monologue has acquired the appropriate accent. I’m clipping my T’s in proper UK fashion. “Yew don’t beleeve me” No one says you have to except the yes, the eyes, the knowing in spite of myself. I don’t want this one. I want these. Racing home to fly onto the black keys, I feel like a child offered sweets. Heavens know that my mind has been raided. For some reason I could almost feel pretty today. Close your mouth, press that flesh together. What are you thinking? It’s the mantra, the constant question until the day I finish the puzzle. Unspool the story like a thread of vibrant yarn being pulled from your lips. See without having to ask.

It’s all that I need right now. Just words. Give me words, give me music. Gift me with your blessings. I wouldn’t be alone, but there would be a missing joy. It’s been so long since summertime already. Hasn’t been a sunny day since the seventies. I wish I could entertain the reader. Express myself to the point of a sensory communion. Describe a moment in details that catch it. Somewhere someone can put on paper the soft feel of those lips pressing into mine when I said goodbye in the hollow halled airport, but it’s likely not going to be me. The frustration I felt at letting my lover dissolve into a blind blur when I tried to watch him out of sight. Flooded with something I’d forgotten, I turned and walked into the bookstore. Those awful kiosks with bestseller authors and never anything worth reading that isn’t pop art. Distraction, desperate, I wouldn’t have gotten on that plane unless you paid me.

Ben Christophers, Craig Armstrong, David Holmes, Dick Dale, (still forgetting to write him back… is a month too long?), Enigma, Explosions in the Sky, Julie Doiron, The Cinematic Orchestra, The Dining Rooms, The Secret Machines, Tom McRae, TV On The Radio, UNKLE, Love as Laughter, No Doubt, Piano Magic, Republica, Spiritualized, Starsailor, Suba.

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