the music seeps into my bones
they swell with thirst at the sound of men
whose voices are like smoky velvet curtains
my bones quiver with delight when women who have unusual voices-
voices like emphysema, scratchy, raw, real- sing
it seems to me like he is always strong, emotions at the surface of his songs
but when she sings, i can feel her heart breaking,
i know she must have tears in her eyes
as she opens herself to complete strangers by using just a microphone
he too, befriends millions of strangers with a microphone
and those painfully beautiful blue eyes
she is homely, and she is odd
he wears a shallow mask of manners so as not to get too involved
she hasn't got time for a mask, nor does she deem it necessary
honesty is within both of them; but hers is raw and his is masked.