Lipstick on my headphone cord, coffee in my blood, Mick Moss crooning in my ears and the rain continues to soften the ghosts out on the lawn, making them easier for the boys to digest without rough edges. When the rain let up I studied Jake intently, and that's when I noticed Cole far behind him, standing in black, just on the rough sideline of my vision. He's hard to find because he is darker while Jacob glows with the moon. They were always night and day and now they are somewhere between but I didn't expect them to travel as a team now, of all times. At one point I thought they might even be friends but looking back, where things are always clearer I can see that that was wishful, selfish thinking.
You have it, if they're here. Lochlan's voice tells my brain. And it's the one gift I wish you didn't even know of. His voice disappears back into sleep and I turn back to watch Jacob, watch him frown as he gestures for me to stop chewing on the cord, when he knows damn well I don't bite on it. I just blot my lips and it's there for the tactile sensation. It grounds me when I get distracted.
God, Mick's on Liquid Light and it's the one with that line from my title (come listen) and he lets his voice break over the words like waves and I feel like he knows how I feel. If he doesn't then he's written the perfect accompaniment to my grief, which never seems to shift into anything workable, anything new.
Anything even remotely navigable, ever.