My darling Music,
My pet. My precious. You’re getting under my skin. I can feel you swim through my hot lava veins. With each claw of your guitar, my heart strings unwind like a ball of wool. I inhale you as though you are the sweetest perfume, scented smoke billowing and curling whispered notes up my nose.
You feel like a dandelion’s white florets blown upon my body, hands drawing fingernails down my back, painted butterfly wings fluttering in my stomach, a knitted blanket smothering me with warmth, an ice cube leaving its chilled snail trail down my face, and sunshine willing my goosebumps to grow.
You can arouse me with just one beat. You make me want to climb the walls and break china dishes. I contort and writhe to the waves of your tempo. You bring me light when all I see is darkness. You conjure tears without warning. You change my mood without asking. And I hear you when I won’t listen to anyone else.
You wear so many faces, yet you always look the same. Eddie Vedder orchestrates my kisses. Bon Iver heightens my touching. Etta James is reflected in my bath bubbles. Bob Dylan sings me lullabies. Arcade Fire celebrates my accomplishments. LCD Soundsystem partners with me to dance.
You are there in all my moments, present when I am not, recording each minute on my memory tape-deck to be played back with one press of a button or the tonguing of a needle in a record’s groove.
I know you’ll never leave me. Our love is forever. You can’t escape me. You are trapped in my cuticles, buried in my belly button, wedged between the crevices of my toes, coated around the roots of my hair, embedded in the lines of my knuckles, and soaked within the beds in my eyes where sleepy dust dreams. When I can’t hear you, you are there. Silently echoing in my thoughts. Bouncing and tiptoeing in the canals of my ears.
Sweet Music, thank you for being the love of my life, for lingering in the background, for making me feel alive.