Bridget Kelly

She sat in a corner of a dimmed lit spot
And this hole in the wall, she's called home from time to time
She was here to hear, to listen, to loose herself in his lyrics and pretend she knew the meaning behind each inflection in his voice
He sung song to doade women, with frames like coke bottles as they twirl their hair and bit their lips
Trying ever so hard not to implode beneath their idealisation of the crooning musician
He's not of this world
Tonight, he's followed the theatric of ?River ?
The overwhelming melancholy of a one man emo band, and an attention seeking song bird
But him, the alien in it all, stands here in the center of the stage
He's still, still like the night
His face reads fearlessness, just before he flashes a smile, and draws the crowd into an unexpected tour of his life, with love, and without
The crowd become invested as he moves poetically through verses, paying tribute to the dimension of the female frame
Coke