wrens

2004-07-17, 5:40 p.m.

i closed my eyes and the crowd disappeared through some hole in the wall, but the music kept playing; alone.

amazing how sweat drops down onto the synthetic white piano keys, with fingers stamping pools of salty water into shards of glass.

ive got a situation with no precedant, and im trying to draw from the foaming banks of my memory so that i will not screw it up, so i have to tell myself you need a procession of clouds before the thunder shakes your house and breaks all the windows.