After “Origin of Love”
from Hedwig and the Angry Inch
April 6, 2020
some words can only be understood through feeling:
crescendo, for example, doesn’t mean a thing
until your heart starts pounding in your fingertips
and your fists start pounding on your desk,
until song rips from your throat like a scream,
head tilted towards a heaven that won’t listen
and love, perhaps, can only be felt through its loss,
through the crackling silence after the crashing crescendo,
the adrenaline ebbing, leaving arms and chest hollow and
heavy.
Loss leaves a shadow, a shape, a negative space,
an ugly emptiness that can best be understood as love.
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