drip;

i like the way you sing, like liquid gold flowing down a dense block of black marble, treading light, almost whispered, like you’re afraid you’d pierce the silence in a cathedral, and the echoes might overwhelm the one you’re serenading. in your hands you hold tenderly, a heart still beating, calmly, regularly. your eyes wet, gaze resolute. singing quietly, on and on.

“he said follow me, and he would take me away — in a hurricane. both of us will vanish”

-

On the wooden block.

A death beat. Robed in gray,

Shifu sending soul away.

/

Palms coated gold and silver

Pressed together in prayer.

Chanting that drones,

That groans, that stills my bones.

/

Troublemaker ensemble.

A frantic flurry of song.

Of wailing. Of drum. Of cymbal.

A kneeling silhouette, withdrawn.

/

And then the cursed suona blares—

A censored string of swears.

Still she sleeps

With a pearl between her lips;

/

When the noise stops I take a bow.

A kowtow.

When the noise stops I hear my heart beat.

A death beat.

Utter defeat.

//

baby it eats you till you’re dead / till you’re fucked in your head

.

Blackout poem created from the lyrics to “Still” by The Japanese House.

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