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.