Your voice separates
my flesh into climates.
I travel the world on
the tip of your finger.
You decide where and when
we go, I kiss you when we arrive.
I know living seems easy,
it’s hard enough just to survive.
And that’s why…
Like a poem, your name is only
an excuse to say something,
so I put my voice into a safe-deposit box
for your to open when you’re seventy
like a photo you took blindfolded,
where love is a parental advisory label
tiny in the corner of an album cover
whose lyrics we have yet to read,
where our frozen stare melts
into a wet glance.
But for now each kiss
is a cyanide capsule
I place under my tongue
since I’d rather die
than be without one.
Tight-roping this flat line,
don’t want to reach the other side.
I’ll arrest these alibis
to keep you in these arms of mine.
But for now each kiss
is a cyanide capsule
I place under my tongue
since I’d rather die
than be without one.
Like a poem, your name is only
an excuse to say something,
so I put my voice into a safe-deposit box
for your to open when you’re seventy
like a photo you took blindfolded,
where love is a parental advisory label
tiny in the corner of an album cover
whose lyrics we have yet to read,
where our frozen stare melts
into a wet glance.
A big, bright, sweet single from Philadelphia's Hurry, sugary vocal melody playing perfectly against starstruck guitars. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 1, 2016
Brooklyn art-poppers bid farewell with three cerebral bangers that treat the inevitable end as a vehicle for dance-ready catharsis. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 21, 2019