8-29: Intoxication at Burro

And, well, this is a strange mixture.

And I don’t know that I ever anticipated that the soft guitar would lift me this way, would send me off. The change in genre was a swift one, switching from packs of young men screaming and punching their way into musical oblivion...to the sweet delicate girl with her fingers perched in practiced positions on dusty silver strings.

I am spending the next few seconds embracing the puff of air that rushed over me as you slipped past, leaving perfumed wind in your wake. The sudden coolness spreads like frozen wildfires in a flash over the whole of me, and I am dumbstruck, helpless to move or breathe until that instant spell of yours is broken.

What a feeling it is
to see men where once
there were boys

What a feeling it is
to feel the beauty
in all of this noise

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