Know the room like a sleepwalker.

I’ve been called heartbreaker
for doing justice to my own

(Julie Byrne: “Follow My Voice”) Posters on the walls, movie stills from fictive fictions from across the great blue; palms and persons; a clock, a disturbance. Books in the windowsills. Candlelights in the windowsills. A view the only thing missing from the windowsills. There are numerous spices, used and unused, on the racks in the kitchen. That’s a metaphor, by the way. And the sweet taste of music in the evening. Music is a mineral, like salt, used to enhance the flavors of life. Things become more present by falling into a haze of half-closed eyelids and wide-open ears. Tones melt, memories are distorted, waves break.

There is no use
falling for me

(Julie Byrne: “I Live Now As A Singer”) A scene is rarely seen from above. This one is no exception. “Keep your feet on the ground,” and I do. I do.

Advertisements