Silueta of Crushed Lipstick and Mum Petals by Carolina Ebeid
I heard you in the garden 
& I was afraid I was naked so I hid.  

I was naked because  I was afraid 
—I said to myself.  

Vox gone hidden in the imbecile garden. 
In the traffic I hid me.  

Fear smells mineral, petroleum, sumac, rain-lustered. 
I drink the drams from its awe-silver limbs.  

I heard your voice purpling like bellies of Peruvian 
blues at various depths in soil. Away-from. 

Artificial lights, they leave the leafy
night looking icy in unfinished colors.  

I heard you say magenta:
three syllables swarming out the voice box.  

Swarm brings back no mauvish/cyan/crimson 
to your sightline but some tv snow.  

A needle dragging skin-dust long the vinyl grooves.
Music acquires you in iotas.  

As static I heard you whirling around the vinyl- 
dark round & round—  

Adrenaline alters the hide, hair. 
I was afraid of the paradise in my ear.

Happy Sunday.

As a gift for today, I uploaded the greatest classical guitar album of all time, Christopher Parkening’s Romanza. It came out in 1969 and I have probably listened to it 10,000 times since then. It has not been available for many decades, except on vintage vinyl. I digitized this one myself, using a really crappy record player and a scratchy album I found on eBay. I have a newer vinyl copy now and a much better turntable, so I suppose I should re-digitize the album. Until I do, I’m sure this will tide you over. There is a link to download the whole album below.

It will be paradise in your ear.

Download the whole album here.