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I Must Have Liked that Song

“Write a feeling,” the trainer requests, “for this reflection in your story.” She pauses. “Now, write a song.”

No notes. No words. No song.

Nothing, only silence, comes to mind.


Hand hits the radio button

Sound blasts from the speaker

Not for this song

but the last song


It’s normal to forget

To disconnect

How could I

Why did I

Turn the volume loud?

I don’t remember

which song,


I must have liked,

that song.

Hand twists the radio button round

To the.

Because the?


Volume rises from the speaker.

I tell myself

For this-

I like-

this song.

Cool plastic. Cold winter.

Gray sky smooths to black

Fingers spin

Before my mind.

I was just here

on this station.

Somehow on straight paths paused,

I turn to the.

Return to a place?

I left.

The question lingers on final notes.

I ask myself

To notice

Do I really like

Any song?

There’s two sides to every story.

One’s a lie and one’s the truth.

Fingers grip a steady wheel.

Two hands. Safe space. No reach.

It is my plan to linger here

Except one hand releases

One eye darts


To click the arrow

Change the station

I ask myself

I remind myself

Why I.

How I.

Where I?


If I wasn’t listening with the volume up


I liked

that song.


Despite my feelings

Auto pilot

Despite my speed

All I know is-

What I’m told is-

If the volume’s loud

I must have liked that song.


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