Music, being as wordless as they are – these frozen griefs no trauma ever thawed, these griefs that thought goodbye was au revoir and thought the dead were living still abroad, these unnamed griefs forgotten in a wasteland where who and what and why have long dissolved – seems, once brought to the fore, to understand griefs neither time nor rhyme nor love resolved. It’s left to dreams of dull bewilderment when wrong and right change places without cause while witnesses, thank god, seem not to notice to dredge up feelings of abandonment, the day’s debris for you alone to witness a flood of shame that out of shame withdraws.
