Burst out through the side door, choking on the air, nose under my t-shirt. Thought to hide beneath the Blue Wave until it passed. It spiraled, caught, and swung. I left the water there. My friend’s house got it first. He set out for the ocean, and now I have to follow to hear his voice again. One hundred fists on door frames. I had ten endless minutes. I pushed the rearview sideways. I let it go so fast. Hope it holds you as the waves come crashing. Missed opportunity. Care a different way tomorrow. Step back twice, reorganize, help it grow, and have it show us what we owe. A empty place is not a thing. Walk upstairs. A thousand years, a covering. To shape it like it wants us to, to leave it right, to see it reach another time. Another season says it so it captures us. Hope it holds you so you know.
This is the album that has gotten me through the pandemic. It has provided peace when peace was nowhere else to be found. It has provided joy when joy was elusive. It has inspired gratitude when darkness and cynicism have crept in. Thank you Andrew. Polygondwanajams