Lend me your ears...
There’s this thing about me and music.
I occupy the song. It’s mine.
I wrote it. It’s the story of my life.
I feel the keys on my fingers
tapping slowly in time,
keeping me in the seat so I won’t leap
again to the young girl who wonders how words can hurt,
how the words of a song can reveal like a lavender spotlight,
reveal like a young girl of fifteen
crooning softly with the radio
turned down so low so
no one can hear.