We make up this lie together. All I need is corroboration.
All I need is a space and bodies. I cast a spell.. Two year ago in the future.
I save the music you post. I bring it into my space and dance alone. I imagine wooded floor spaces, draped in tulle. Other bodies.
We play these songs. We dance. We sing these songs. We dance. We push into each other. There are movements that hurt. There are parts sung too loud. Something is being worked out. To the side, wooded palates piled too high catch fire.
You push into me, too hard. I sing, too loud.