A sweet song
The problem is, sometimes I imagine the most beautiful fragments in my mind being sung when I commit them to paper: letting even the littlest word jump harmoniously off the page. Maybe I just don’t have due confidence in my phrasal bridges and clausal melodies.
I want the diction to reverberate in your ears. I want my conclusions to spring off your tongue as the last word of my paragraph lingers like a ringing fermata. Like for what I want to say next.
Imagine what it’s like when you find the icy cold lotion for your sunburn. The Skittles for your munchies. The flashlight for your basement. The Technicolor switch for your monochrome film. It’s what it’s like when there’s complete satiety, warmth, light, and sweet sweet songs. You’d want to shout about it, sing about it. Or maybe, if you’re me, you’d want to write about. Scream with words, lyricize with letters. As long as it resonates.
Your prose is stunning and lyrical here, Brett. Good stuff.
I always appreciate you reading my stuff, Jon. Thanks so much for your kind words.