The words are my notes
as I attempt to play the music of my soul
straight into yours
I use many styles
weave strange motifs
conjure unfamiliar longings and soothing connections as I touch upon the remembrances of the other, older tunes
played from similar longings throughout the eons
before the fear fever
yours . . . mine . . . ours . . .
before the fear of getting the music wrong
blocked so many from even trying to play,
from even attempting to write their own song of joy,
from even believing in music at all
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