Their arrhythmia, they hear, so I listen. I hold them through me, awkwardly, more for me than them. Arms clumsy, entangled, I hear myself, through them. I share my pulse, just, knowing it will be heard but, likely, not listened to. But I still hold, they are still, I am not still. Aural spectres hold sub eclipse blood work. So I listen, hoping they hear. They can't hear my pulse, because I hold them, arms clumsy. A heard pulse, not listened to, I hold in my awkward hands. My blood work, sub itself, listening to its spectre. Work is spoken, but, not heard, and not listened to. My ears wane. I hear them and they try to hear each other as they eclipse. Blood work rushes from them, through them, between them, as an arrhythmic moonlight mobile. Spectres hold me, they hear, more for me than them, awkwardly, so I listen. I hear, their hold, a spectre, so I can't listen, but I don't mind. My pulse through their pulse, spectral, I hear and hold, I am not still. My ears wax. I hear, I do not need to be heard to listen.
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Written for Gunnhildur Einarsdóttir and Sarah Nemtsov's harp composition class at the Darmstädter Ferienkurse 2023. Performed by Jenna Vergeynst.
For Kari x
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Released through Don’t Look Back Records as part of DLB x Gaza, a compilation album made in support of Gaza.