← verse
Solitude
Loneliness losing the downbeat.
Solitude in New Orleans is loud before it isn’t. You think loneliness owns the block until jazz from the French Quarter reaches your kitchen.
Symphony is declined. Communal melody is accurate — gas lamp friendship, bayou breath, cemetery echo reminding you the dead also traveled in company.
Alone is not sentenced here. It is intermission.
The brass finds you on the next corner.
JV · Dark Heart Labs