L'Élan

Lyrics

[Intro]
Here.
In the space between the thought and the thing.
The brass key, cold in my palm.
There is still time. 
There is still a choice.

[Verse 1]
My motor cortex doesn't ask permission.
It simply draws the map.
A clean, bright line from my shoulder to the river.
The cerebellum calibrates the weight, the arc, the wind I cannot feel.
It's a problem of physics, not of the heart.
Not yet.

[Chorus]
And then, l'élan.
The fifty-millisecond window where the future is written and sealed.
The command is sent.
It cannot be recalled.
A ballistic signature.
My body, already ahead of my regret.
No time for feedback.
The thing is already done.

[Verse 2]
The agonist muscle fires, a burst of pure intention.
The antagonist brakes, a whip-crack of control to keep the arm in its socket.
A final, smaller fire to steady the empty hand.
And the key tumbles through the gray Parisian air, a tiny golden glint over the Seine.

[Chorus]
And that, l'élan.
The fifty-millisecond window where the future is written and sealed.
The command is sent.
It cannot be recalled.
A ballistic signature.
My body, way ahead of my regret.
No time for feedback.
The thing is already done.

[Bridge]
Bernstein called it 'movement construction.'
I call it throwing away the only way back.
The plan, executed in a flash of electrical will.
The open loop is closed now.
The splash was very small.
My arm remembers the arc.
My mind is just now catching up to the silence.

[Outro]
My hand is open.
Still warm where the brass was.
There is nothing to correct.
Nothing to take back.
Just the echo of the throw.