I feel your bass
drum kick, boom-boom, up near my heart and so forceful it can be seen and not just felt. Then comes in the bass guitar, rolling left to right, slapping in rhythmic time, the vibrations complementing the backbeat in my ribcage. Your hands stay folded up next to your smushed-up face, all the way down low, until showtime, and then fingers glide and flutter, finding the keys in the dark. I tap along, fingers drumming the snare, toes tapping the high hat, humming lead guitar to the tune of who cares because it’s just you and me here. Some times you are acoustic, swaying gently as if we have nowhere to be and you are content to stay inside forever. Others you plug in and make yourself unmistakably known and I wonder what choreography you’re learning in there, and if you’ll remember it when you’re out. Or, perhaps more likely, we’ll settle in to a new sound, a new song, a new dance, just you and me. Except this time, like it or not, there will be vocals.
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Nicci KadilakI'm the boss around here.
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