let’s get straight to the point

whenever love walks in

the scene changes.

jazz twinkles and rumbles on the speakers.

finger snaps begin in the back quadrant of the room.

The walls grow gilded

and the trees remember how to dance

\

\

we forget that jazz is improvised, like life, when we are hearing it secondhand.

do you know if your fish has been frozen?

are you living your life secondhand?

The electric organ holds the answers

Percussive, subtly but assertively, it won’t let us forget

that when we cannot touch hearts,

we lock eyes.

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