As a Guest Response:

R: You know I can't complain.

The way you've spilled out the connection we made was in better words than I've got to toy around with. I'm just someone who hears the sound of the ocean and knows how to equate it to the feeling of a breath on my skin. I'm just someone who sees the lights from a fire and knows, if I spell it out, I'll spoil it for someone. So, I sing it instead. I just sit and play it on the lowest notes I have, shake your ribs with it, and let it go at that.

But you, babe, are writing an entire lifetime of time in a string of sentences that don't appear to amount to very much.

So, don't sweat it, babe.
I'm alive because you found me out in the out-space and you brought me back. Because you heard us singing out in the weft and you pulled us into another kind of reality. We're here because you heard us and you wrote it all down.

How would we complain?
We've got nothing on you but some notes to add to your poetry, if you can hear it too.

-Brands