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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

playing.


It’s normal to forget

To disconnect

How could I

Why did I

Turn the volume loud?


I don’t remember

which song,

but

I must have liked,

that song.



Hand twists the radio button round

To the.

Because the?

Right

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

Right.

To click the arrow

Change the station

I ask myself

I remind myself

Why I.

How I.

Where I?

Arrived.


If I wasn’t listening with the volume up

Because

I liked

that song.



Automatic

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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