14 · MATA
THE SINGER Christina Mata i am vexed with the notion that light travels faster than sound for i have found amity in and around the reverberation of applause not for the accolade, but in pursuit of a moment. the exact point of time the audience becomes a mirror parallel lines connecting by the wash of a chord euphoric moments swept up in a pitch, resonant as they leave my lips open to interpretation my voice holistically me a fixation to be understood only a fool will chase i revel in the shared confusion with child-like ferocity. dreading the ring of the last overtone before the applause