I can’t stop singing. Every name I’ve known, on a note, ringing. I smile, open my throat. Sounds, a glorious treaty between myself and my past. I catch the A# and pull it back, my first death and I make it last. How is it that my heart is my mouth? I know your breath and imagine that I held it in my hand, sucked it in and have held it there just to let it out now on this beat. I make you alive, revive you in these words, not just strung together in black and white, but on the very air. I’ve seen you there, reverberating with sonic wonder.