i sent a bottle of whiskey

"and i was waiting over here for life to begin,
i was looking for the new thing,
and you were the sunshine heading my front line;
i was alone,
you were just around the corner from me."

i had one of those moments this morning, one of my favorite kinds of moments, where the music flowed and connected so perfectly with everything around me. i am quite keen on playing music loudly while driving, singing along, and taking in the scenery with the musical accompaniment going along with me - a car concert, a friend once called it. i've been struggling so much with my mood and the whole state of my emotions that sometimes, just a small moment when music and morning meet, helps me breathe a little better.

and bury the dust of the failing wisdom

keep art alive; art by alison casson

sleep is often so fleeting. she comes in and kisses my eyelids lightly, pulling me into a watercolor dripping and dizzy sense of a dream. there is always music there, and sometimes i can step my own steps within all of it, wrapping arms around translucent bodies of light, and love. but sleep, she is a transient thing, coming and going with a fevered touch, electric, but so quickly gone. five in the morning, with the darkness still covering each and every spot of the room, i sit within it and contemplate everything from candy flavors, unread book pages, and love. the questions, they hover in the heavy morning air, lighting it up before the sun decides to grace it all with morning.

"there's a shake with the shock
and a gift off with them
they carry the dust of the failing wisdom
for you there's not any warning
for you there's not any warning
and love is five in the morning."

star bodies ~ the new pornographers