Tracings from Cascadilla Creek by Jordan Morton

I could trace the lines etched around your mouth
But I guess a smile will do for now
I won’t argue with how it has to be
Let’s just wait and see

When you look at me it’s kind of like how
After many days the sun’s coming out and
The windows face south
Just like that my dear, damn you melt me down

Love is not the word – the word isn’t love
More like energy I’ve always known of
But could not describe
Imagine my surprise when the word was you

Oh the words build up line after line
And I trace them slow with a nail bit low
Cause they’re words I wrote a long long time ago
Folded neatly up
Licked and stamped but no

With such honesty, with such warm regard
One could dry the sea, one could stand apart
But still here you are standing next to me
Waiting patiently for my lips to part
But what can I say? What is left to know?
Wild lights line up in impossible rows
What would happen dear
If we trace them slow?

• Experimental
• experiemental
• experimental electronic
• experimental hip-hop
• experimental pop
• experimental rock
• Oakland