1. |
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and here, our love will be
as still as ‘once’, and still
forever moving.
like the light of the furthest star
as it drifts up the dark shore of night
singing its deepest song,
and after 14 billion years,
finally hearing
a voice.
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2. |
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it is a small existence.
you dream of corn in the winter,
of the swaying sound of
seagulls on the wind.
it is the month of june
and the two of you are by
the dock, cutting watermelon slices.
his lips are wet.
the gulls become the white drape
of silence.
the barren landscape.
the sound of ice cracking somewhere
deep in the woods.
he used to call you aurora, for the
first time you saw the northern lights.
it was on a projector, in a museum.
the month was april and
the exhibit room was empty.
an ice floe loosens in the night
without any witness.
you cannot remember if you love him,
only that some places
still bear the heat of his life.
the snow covers everything now,
except these small, dull
sparks.
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3. |
Happiness
01:50
|
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standing at the edge of a white field
under the winter solstice, and you are just
a shadow of your life;
the ones you loved, left in train stations or in
the narrow streets of foreign cities.
in the cliffs that rise damp with steam
is a small city hidden in memory. in each room
of that lonely apartment, he wakes again and again
to the echo of you.
this far north, the winter is long.
at nightfall you gather branches among the broken snow,
singing softly from a past that you have borrowed,
naming faces as if the names could speak,
could tell all you have left unsaid.
here, walking among the winter fields
far from home,
he will always remember you,
like the bare outlines of a dream,
from which he still believes
he is waking.
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4. |
Eternal Water Lark
03:22
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tonight you dream of the death of horses,
of a burial ground deep in the mountains.
tonight your feet are heavy with dreammiles
and you can almost hear a voice on the wind.
in space, eternity collapses without a sound.
if i called out your name, in silence, would you still exist?
a thought fluttering towards the black dome,
formless as desire, searching for containment:
a hand here on skin, bodies moving among bodies,
mouth searching for soul, soul searching for-
but wait, it is still too early to explain.
time has not touched you yet, where you are,
where i imagine you to be.
for now, i will send you the smell of olive leaves on the wind,
of white linens baking on clay streets.
i send you sea mist with the memory of christ’s hands,
the paradox of the north, the constellations further than the sky.
tonight, i shout your existence into the void,
and wait, for the deaf signal, for the dead light of stars
to drift you back through the crumpled waves of time
to me.
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Cepheid Flux Montréal, Québec
My music is like a teenage girl's diary. Sloppy penmanship, impulsive emotional musings, and hearts drawn around glued-in magazine cutouts of Justin Timberlake. Every original electronica composition here was conceived and completed in single sittings of 5-8 hours.After all, you certainly wouldn't go back and edit your diary entries from that summer back in '94.... That'd just be absurd. ... more
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