"I don' love you no more"

I

"I want...to be a good woman.
And I want...you to be a good man.
And this is why...I am leaving you."
is what Chan whispered into the mic,
lamenting over untouchables
with silver strands and wooden bodies.

'The song is…It’s just, I mean it’s
sad but...but it’s beautiful too…so--
I--I'm sorry I'm not articulating my.'
was Chantal's gentle and eloquent
reply to my asking 'What's wrong?'
She had wept in the moments I was gone.

'I know. I thought you'd...like it.
Her voice is delicate and wrinkled,
and those chords drone somethin' low'
was the paperthin comfort I covered
her arms with. I kissed her crown,
wiped her lash, and waited for another song.


II

No plans, but its serendipity
made us like it more than others.
It was already a marvelous lullaby, bow against
guitar, metallic whispers on the snarehead, and
the gleaning falsetto of a twelveyearold man.

But when we would wake up together, our ears
stretching arms and squinting crusted eyes to
a single note on a lo-fi xylophone bell,
we knew we were in love. With one another
and the song; It crept into and out of my mindmovies.

So we chose music with a language we don't speak
and synaesthetic colors we don't recognize as our
cut-palm playinears togethering. Now that we're apart,
separated, I can't help but think of her and there,
where we were in love, where I was in Iceland.

*I refers to Chan Marshall/ Cat Power's "Good Woman."
II refers to Sigur Ros's "Svefn-g-Englar."