Nai,
We walk different jungles
Sun spliced in different skies
Split by a slab of blue
Yet I hear
You
Me, here,
Walking the paths you sing of,
Making hands of the words you speak,
Arriving at the memories you've wrung like a
Needle stuck in my mind
You
Sing like your soul is on fire.
Purring of quiet as silk;
Lungs weeping raw in
Consonant melody sifted in
Soil
Oil
Spilling off palms
Soaked in the blood sun, and
In all my wandering--
I can't help wondering if, in the end,
I discovered you
For a reason
--
c
Reflecting on an artist that inspires me: Nai Palm (singer/producer of the band Hiatus Kaiyote).
I've listened to practically every interview I could get my hands on, and decided I'd try and translate my feelings for her music and artistry into a poem. I could probably write about it for 15 more stanzas at least. Here's a start?
