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POEM: he talks to his lover about music

he talks to his lover about music

I’ve heard this song before but I never noticed this bit here where they sing your name. No, seriously. I’ll play it again. Listen. Right after this line. I’m sure they sing your name. Just once, with some tasty harmony, too. I didn’t notice it the first fifteen times I listened to it today. But for some reason, on the sixteenth time through, it hit me. I had to go back several times to be sure. But I’m sure now. Every time it gets to that part, even if I’m doing something else, I get these little goosebumps on my arms and my cheeks get red. It’s the funniest thing. I can’t believe you don’t hear it. It’s so clear. Maybe if you got closer to the speakers. Come right down here on the floor. Close your eyes. Now just focus on the music. OK? I’m going to start the song. Wait. Wait. Almost there. Right … now. Did you catch it? It’s the coolest thing. Anyway, I just wanted to play that for you. I wanted you to know that I find you in the everyday places. In the small things. You pop up unexpectedly like a patch of wildflowers seen quickly along the highway. A brief flash of color and then it’s gone and I’m not even sure I saw it but it stays with me.

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30 January 2014
Oak Street

Published in Music My poems Poetry

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