Barebones

The sound of wrists on the verge of carpal tunnel syndrome

There are tunnels for wishes.  They say.

I held my breath with her on my mind

I held my breath with music on my mind

The transposition of pain into chords

enveloping an attitude I was stuck with

Restructuring its basis as I succumb

to automata.  to improvisation.  to freedom.

I am reminded by new people in my life

of the virtuosity in patient lava

These people.  I would have never have met them

otherwise.  What if Instead.  I had reverted

back into homohablis

back into the electrical impulses

of my emotionally defeated alterego