Saxaphone. A saxaphone. The saxaphone. My saxaphone. Curvy. Waivy. Notes, piercing the thick air. The groove, penetrating bodies. The contact between my lips and the mouth of the instrument. Air flowing down its neck though its body. Out of it. And then though they air, through the clouds. And through time. Time signatures. Time to play. Play, play, play, play, play. Play the truth. Hear the truth. Listen to the truth. An 'S' shape, revealing so much truth. What an experience. My experience. For me, for you.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment