Nov 15, 2018
A poem by Saeed Jones
BLUE PRELUDE
Last night, the ceiling above me ached with dance.
Music dripped down the walls like rain in a broken house.
My eyes followed the couple's steps from one corner to the other,
pictured the press of two chests against soft breathing, bodies slipping
in and out of candlelight. And the hurt was exquisite.
In my empty bed, I dreamed the record's needle
pointed into my back, spinning me into no one's song.
Saeed Jones
Author’s Note: Blue Prelude references the song as performed by Nina Simone.
