If you could peel back the air
and slip into the lamplight,
the circles on your desk or
the halos on your street,
you would find me and Music
friends, lovers, brothers, twins
hand in hand, upside down
over and under each other,
lost in each other’s throats.
You would see us sing,
I into him, he into me,
at twenty nine degrees
on a sunday, 9:36 pm –
A rescue, of course.
When the crane swoops down
to grab the scruff of my neck,
you would feel him move the floor
and fall inside of me,
or I into him.
It is here that you would see him
standing in a mirror
stringing a guitar, crushing a piano,
setting a cymbal on fire,
and I on the other side,
pulsing, fuming, steaming,
fingers stretched and reaching for air,
but leaning into a microphone
and singing the thousand colors
that orbit around my head,
as brown or as off-white
as they may turn.
And if you could remove the cotton,
you would hear his angels behind him
in the lights that bomb off of the mountains.
Harps and lyres, but screams too;
each drag of my pedal,
each roar of my stomach:
When I call to him
he comes with more angels.
Yet I cannot call with my own breath.
It is not my breath.
But I do have breath, and
when new breath calls,
he comes from the clouds,
from the rivers, from the birds,
from the mountains and the oceans.
He comes from the lights in the trees.
He comes at eighty miles per hour
over and under bridges,
he comes when called.
He makes me awake.
And only if you could peel back the air
could you see a warmth
and hear an aroma
and taste a light
and smell a sound
that feels like your own blood.
How likely it is
you will turn and bury your head
once you see he and I
in our skull-locked heart dance
and you in your own.
You will run and hold on to your ears
like I did.
You will see fire pour in around your feet
along a molten ground
and you will not know where to stand.
You will run
back down the street,
to your mirror, lamp, halo,
where breathe belongs,
and beg for cotton again.
You will know that Music is a lion
strong and quick, louder than sound,
faster than speed, heavier than weight.
You will know and you will see,
and join me in falling to your knees.