It comes from a void, through cords, into void.
Gets collected in a shell, pushes into a tunnel, and hits a wall.
Yet, there it pounds, and pounds, and pounds.
In a rhythm.
A bit is absorbed. And passed along some bones.
Into the spiral, where strings await its vibration.
Here’s the excitement.
It’s kind of electric, wait for the synapse, cause there it’s chemical.
And the spark flies, like a note in a song, harmonic, maybe chaotic.
Orchestras of cells get orgiastic, pushing and shoving, flashing and dying.
Then it hits the sweet spot. A memory is awakened, a spirit is let loose. Emotion arises.
A cascade of signals rushes in a beautiful choreography. From the grey matter, to the muscular tissue beneath the silky skin of yours.
We sing. We dance.
From nothing, through joy, to nothing.