Two thousand streams sounds like movement until, on the screen, the numbers look alive: 730 listeners over twelve months, 2,000 streams, 611 playlist adds, 475 saves, and 51 followers. Spotify even tells me I grew 72,900%.
That’s a bold move,
walking my dog down the lane.
You took my phone,
and dropped yourself in my speed dial.
You gave me a bold move,
a bold move.
just bold.
The struggle in this poem is the feeling of carrying depth in a time built for quick glances, short attention, and endless scrolling, where real thought can feel almost out of place.
I close my eyes,
and the sound blankets over me,
wrapping my body in static warmth.
A pulse, a flicker—
then her voice kicks in,
sultry, raw, stretching syllables like elastic.
A whisper, then a burn.
A cry disguised as cool.
That silent movement is what surprised me most, because outwardly it can look like nothing is happening while underneath the numbers are telling a completely different story.
"An artist’s reflection on attention, creativity, and the systems that train us to keep moving." — I was walking down a sidewalk in Los Angeles when I came across this stereo — out of place, quiet, and strangely present in a city that rarely stops moving. Photo by Christopher Sopher
