Conversations with lizards

For the music is your special friend
Dance on fire as it intends
Music is your only friend
Until the end

The Doors

 You hear the music

– that song – and the words crawl under your skin. The sun is 

setting in the horizon, soft and weak, and the wind chills through your

layers of flesh. You think of the first tape you ever bought, only

now it’s tangled and lies discarded in a bargain bin, forgotten friend.

Time jumps with every note, the world becomes bigger, smaller; until

now, did you really listen? Did you realise that the

lyrics are running out? The song is almost at its end.

by Rachel David