It’s moments like these
It’s moments like these that I preserve in spirit, keep for many months so that the pheromones spread in the clear liquid. I harvest the moment when it is fresh, green and golden smelling, hold it to my nose and fix it in my quivering mind- I put it into a jar of coloured glass and pour high quality Vodka over. During the night when fear peeks out wearing its thousandfold faces, I open the jar and smell its tunes. And fear gets envious as I do not entirely live in its shadow- anymore. I let it play in the alley of my muscles, occupied as I am with the notes of the moment.