There have been a few moments in time where I couldn’t articulate but a word.

Last night was one of them.

And it happened in the fourth row, from the stage, as my breath matched the resonant of the melody.

The switch was off.

It buzzed.

It clicked.


It buzzed.

It clicked. 

It was on.

The air smoothed over the awkwardness.

Unwrinkled the wrinkled.

Or so she thought.

1 thought on “Throb

  1. This is lovely

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