melpomene
i vibrated his pocket, and while i tried to plan for voicemail (does he screen his calls? will he recognize the san diego area code? should i make a joke about phone tag?) the ringing switched to static hesitation. in about a heartbeat's lapse a soft voice cautiously exposed itself: "hello?"
(for some reason, while typing this, my itunes is obsessed with playing Sia. i do need a new association with her music because she is such a good singer/songwriter and she deserves more than to be lumped in the "one of the worst fights with the X" category.)
the electronic signatures of our voices met each other then, began slow like the eager and careful contact of unfamiliar bodies, found an asymmetrical beat. low minor keys are my comfort zone, and i settled in alto, my percussion punctuated with the occasional crescendos of his restrained intensity. he felt like kin, biology recognizing itself first in QWERTY tapping and then again over cluttered cellular frequencies.
with that recognition comes a familiar resignation. i can only be certain that such fusions are at once insidious and tenuous, their massive creative potential easily betrayed by their own erratic, potentially explosive properties. perhaps it is no accident that in my new city, i am lodged between the namesakes of delight and tragedy. but that latter muse vacillates between tragedy and voice. the first soprano, leading the melody, is out of practice but still resides in this body of mine.
(for some reason, while typing this, my itunes is obsessed with playing Sia. i do need a new association with her music because she is such a good singer/songwriter and she deserves more than to be lumped in the "one of the worst fights with the X" category.)
the electronic signatures of our voices met each other then, began slow like the eager and careful contact of unfamiliar bodies, found an asymmetrical beat. low minor keys are my comfort zone, and i settled in alto, my percussion punctuated with the occasional crescendos of his restrained intensity. he felt like kin, biology recognizing itself first in QWERTY tapping and then again over cluttered cellular frequencies.
with that recognition comes a familiar resignation. i can only be certain that such fusions are at once insidious and tenuous, their massive creative potential easily betrayed by their own erratic, potentially explosive properties. perhaps it is no accident that in my new city, i am lodged between the namesakes of delight and tragedy. but that latter muse vacillates between tragedy and voice. the first soprano, leading the melody, is out of practice but still resides in this body of mine.