Three minutes, forty-six seconds

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“Would you like to go out tonight? Said Tristan to Isolde…”
I am sitting in a corner, writing
Looking at an old cranberry couch with two brightly striped pillows
Fiesta-ware fabric resting after the festivities
A dining table covered in bottles
“God I love you, but you trouble me…”
Two dingy socked feet, sticking out from under a cream-colored blanket
A beautiful, untouchable arm grazing the floor
And a poor girl, unable to do more than gaze and write
“It’s ok I guess, but that story’s pretty old…”
Sitting wistful in a sunny patch of a small room
Afraid of time
The perfect length of a self-preserving memory
A curio-cabinet feature in the making
To be dusted off for future cherishing
This memory should not last longer than a song
“Said Tristan to Isolde…”

Sing it with Full Confidence

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Note: this is a song I made up in the car. If I remember to write the notes down, I’ll include it here in an edit. It’s a fast-paced, bluesy song.

Sing it with Full Confidence

I’m a daughter of the water
And a child of the land
I got one foot in a puddle
And my hands in the sand
I’ll take my bucket to the river
Till the waters run dry
Then I’ll cry
Then I’ll cry

It doesn’t have to make sense
If you sing it with full confidence!
Sing to me, in a tree
From your boat on the Seine
If you can pull on my heartstrings
Then I’ll call you a man
And we can sail down that river
Till waters run dry
Then say goodbye
Say goodbye

It doesn’t have to make sense
If you sing it with full confidence!

I’ll be found, underground
Digging down the core
With amphora in my backpack
And my soul wanting more
I’ll drink full from the Styx
Till the waters run dry
And I’ll die
Yes I’ll die!

It doesn’t have to make sense
If you sing it with full confidence!