It whispers, not forcing me to listen, but slowly and gently moving into me, it asks. The guitar picks it up just above the surface--the horn anchors it to the ground. Percussions guide it fluidly forward with the bass suggesting its direction. Soon, the space inside me is occupied by only its sound, leaving no room for thoughts or images--it holds me close, it sits and waits, just at the edge of my heart. Tabula Rasa, by Solcircle
No comments:
Post a Comment