She plays---fill in the blank, it's all the same to me---too loud
And really, that's the problem
She owns it, it's hers
Why make it, why break it
Why separate it, why like it?
A closed stained glass window, a line
Drawn across a largely spacious, open air room
And that's why I think back and rotate it,
Switch it, embrace it,
lose it; because that separation makes the
Silence too loud. And for once that loud, stupid
Music is accepted. I call
It a loud, stupid compromise.