She used her cigarette as a flashlight to make her way to the window.
She was certain that God was speaking to her, from behind the curtain.
A cricket-driven code laying out a plan for her, if only she could crack it.
No decoder ring was present. No translation could be found.
Another mystery remained unsolved, but she refused to let God down.
You could say she lives in the moment, if that moment is seven years from now.
Pretending to be clairvoyant, her high hopes are falling down.
She poured herself some absinth, then she poured it down the drain.
She put her cigarette out on her forearm, then she lit it up again.
© Michael Salamone – Salatone Recordings – Michael Salamone Publishing