Music

anonymous

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A song plays rythomes syncopated and elevated words and rhythms overlapping lapping at my ears. I can hear your voice over the chords distantly in my memories but I will not imagine that we were a fantasy. I pause the music and a cacophony of sound stops abruptly. cut off from what it was and what it could be, stopped short of tomorrow and of next year and of marriage maybe, infinity or an exponential curve. Sometimes I like to listen to music in reverse and hear the voices of the singers or the guitars swimming like salmon upstream smoothly against the current and against the grain. forgetting their silence and their pain and forgetting you as my memories of days wash down the drain as soap suds clean me of what I know right after you called sin and said I’d taken advantage that I was a. because some people aren’t worth remembering