I’ve lost the ability to live without imagining music playing in the background. Think of it this way – I am a sleeping conglomerate of blood and bones, only awake when I’m hit by tides, tides of emotions, tides of all things beautiful, tides of all things dreamy, tides of all things otherworldly.
Come, hit me.
Come, wake me.
Music, catalyse my chemical existence.
Music, wake me.
Music, let me see her.
let me see her dance
with her arms overhead,
against the backdrop of a sunset on the terrace,
to the sound of the sun burning itself
dance to the sound of the tide hitting me
It doesn’t scare me that one o these days, these tides will plunge onto me in ways that I won’t be able to swim out of. Maybe I don’t want to swim out of it.
Maybe all I want to do is look at her laugh, with her hands in front of her mouth, and her back to the dying sun, oblivious to how angelic she looks with the halo of the sun exactly behind her tiny, beautiful head; oblivious to how being flooded has slown time down and how I count the seconds between every time she blinks her eyes and wrecks my cardiac stability.
Maybe all I want to be is wrecked, damned and pillaged by this overwhelming urge to drown in everything that is hers.
Maybe all I want to do is look at her laugh like that, while The Irrepressibles play in the background and these tides take me away