La Danse Immobile

Lyrics

[Intro]
Hickory handle, cool in my palm.
The block of ash, waiting.
The quiet before the first mark.

[Verse 1]
The part of me that names you... chisel...
The part that plans the line...
It’s loud at first.
A committee meeting in my skull.
It says, "Be careful."
It says, "Remember the drawing."
It remembers yesterday’s mistakes.
Nineteen-ninety. That winter. The splintered piece.
This grain is not the same.

[Chorus]
And then, the noise just... stops.
The committee goes home.
My name dissolves on my tongue.
There is no hand. There is no wood.
Only the falling away.
Only the slow, sharp bite of the steel.
This is the still dance.
La danse immobile.

[Verse 2]
The sun has moved across the floor.
I did not see it go.
There was a clock, I think.
On the wall with the dust motes.
My stomach does not speak of hunger.
My shoulders do not speak of time.
There is only the curl of the shaving,
the scent of the opened wood,
and the feedback loop of the edge finding its way.

[Chorus]
And the noise just stops.
The committee goes home.
My name dissolves on my tongue.
There is no hand. There is no wood.
Only the falling away.
Only the slow, sharp bite of the steel.
This is the still dance.
La danse immobile.

[Bridge]
Someone once gave this a name... flow.
He watched a man named Tibor paint until he forgot to eat.
He said the best moments are not the easy ones.
They are this. Stretched thin.
A voluntary effort.
The frontal lobe goes dark, a temporary quiet.
The self, that noisy guest, has finally stepped outside for a smoke.
And in its absence... the real work is done.

[Outro]
And the room comes back.
The sound of the street.
My own breathing.
Hello, hand.
Hello, me.
Look what we made while I was gone.