Although I cannot see
the precise way to enter
in a minute, my hands
can reflect a light upon the walls.
It's been awhile,
but I am sure that I can lift my body
from the slanted room
to the chamber of windows.
Yes, the windows that let in the full presence
of all that I can see but not control.
The movement of my body will then have wings,
my speech passing through the corridors.
What is this system of rituals
that I come upon,
what does it mean? My own way of blasphemy,
ingrained but never challenged.
One still wonders where the key lies.
I have been told of the powers
that be and those that will be after that,
or simply that their entrance will come about,
in a procession. And I have been told
to clear the brush,
and to kneel down, punctuating the story,
redirecting as much as I can.
There will be a time
when the silent night will let the chatter in,
where the knife blade of happenstance can hear me
singing.
The eye opened, to sprinklers, fountains,
and hidden storage closets. To pass among,
but to never truly see what is seen.
It is a neverending fate, but if rested on one's shoulder,
it does not deafen the movment. Some interactions
beget a fragrance, others don't. And this will be
the way, and the softening will harden into a mobile command.
A little line, diverging, but returning, sometimes in the same
space of time. I speak of this and cannot hide from this.
In the end, I cannot hide.
Straddling the threshold between studio performance and digital technique; the NYC artist applies "fake jazz" principles to synthpop. Bandcamp New & Notable May 2, 2024
A collection of tracks from the singer and multi-disciplinary artist's 111 collaboration series, featuring KMRU, Laraaji, and others. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 25, 2024