Work Text:
I was approached by a boy in black,
Straining to speak over blaring music
Asked if I was any good with strings;
If I knew a thing or two about rhythm
I concluded it’d be a temporary affair
Our partnership with fleeting benefits
The deal brought us greater benefits
For me, stunning brightness in black
For him, a diverting puppy love affair
In all of life’s matters, save for music
I did not know anything about rhythm
Hopelessly entangled in those strings
By contrast, he was skilled with strings
Broadening my conception of benefits
In that apartment we found our rhythm
All of my favorite colors faded to black
My name from his lips was finer music
Than any song composed in our affair
Tensions of fame weighed on our affair
My skin imprinted with tightened strings
An ache penetrating the blaring music
The second edge to all of our benefits
What’s so alluring about a boy in black
Is that he is tethered to his own rhythm
As fervid erraticism entered this rhythm
Cold pragmatism returned to our affair
I’d hold him as his vision turned to black
He’d curse whilst clinging to our strings
As I struggled in vain to see the benefits
Whilst I loathed the sound of his music
We parted, as I could make my own music
In life’s matters, I had found their rhythm
Counting measures of solitude’s benefits
Mind wandering to that bittersweet affair
Here comes the sun upon my strings
Still I wondered how I’d paint it black
By fortune, life’s matters, like music, remain a lifelong learning affair
By labor, we ordered a disrupted rhythm and aligned twisted strings
By now, I don't think in terms of benefits, but of two halves in black.