and now i feel as how i felt
before words on record players
lassoed the air between our lips,
lifted from the disc and strung our breaths together –
this was months ago.
and I am just as confused
just as lost
perhaps not as ready to open my mouth again,
because this record has a faint crack
running jagged down my rings,
and it seems I can’t make music
when the needle pokes fun at my imperfections.