1 minute read
The Singer
THE SINGER Christina Mata
i am vexed with the notion that light travels faster than sound for i have found amity in and around the reverberation of applause
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not for the accolade, but in pursuit of a moment.
the exact point of time the audience becomes a mirror parallel lines connecting by the wash of a chord
euphoric moments swept up in a pitch, resonant as they leave my lips
open to interpretation my voice holistically me a fixation to be understood only a fool will chase
i revel in the shared confusion with child-like ferocity. dreading the ring of the last overtone before the applause
