Re-Play. Re-Play. Re-Play. Re-
The cassette is stuck,
my thumb holds down the button as though
it has a will of its own.
Its impression is on my skin. It breathes.
My body becomes its own separate entity, speaking to me;
sebaceous glands pop as though to say "rise up
out of your chair and face the day, glowing"
heart flutters its stilted message of guilt & remorse, nerves patter & jump their flustered rhythm.
Life is the rhythm of a drum that i dance to with graceful inaccuracy
Dance, then, you marionette.
Shake your limbs as though no-one is watching.
Flood your room with light from the window.