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.