round silver rimmed frames fogged over
the intensity of a moment
he doesn't even see me
I am the moment
no longer am I a body among the masses
but a void, a whisper of a form
progression to salt rattled hair
plastered sweaty wet faces
painted in a scene of indie rock perfection
of a warm yellow button down over graphic tee print
shadowed against a black box
an icon crossing the length of the floor
two feet up this legend towers over me
the same unknown artist first to break the venue
then the chasm's sound barrier
He doesn't register my essence as he spits prophesy and misery
onto my lips
I taste his pain, his liquid energy
a romantic disgusting moment
shrill rages unbeknownst to him
I watch this fire breather feed smoke to a weathered metal trumpet
in between verses
his lyrics make love in the chambers of my heart
yet
a boy yawns as this man confesses devotion to the dark through a solo moment of past misery and heart break
it is messy and beaten
battered and degraded
together I stand not a foot away
close enough to kiss the microphone cord that dangles my face
toying with my nose in a way verse seems to surpass
we point back in agreement to every word he gifts us
agony never felt so comfortable