Florence Madiline Jones

This Mouth of mine

My mouth is moving before my brain is thinking, and while my head is spinning.
I've never had much control of the damn thing, but never like this.
This time I smile a little secret smile to myself I've found myself in a moment out of the known universe.
As the words roll off my tough of their own accord, because it feels right, like a breath
 or moving your hips to a ssslllooow beat.
feels hella good, actually.
I always sing along with this song, without fail,
this song has pulled me through frozen bone and nights I couldn't sleep with the lights off.
so when I hear it,---before I see it.
I forget about the game of pool I'm losing, badly.
All the people around me and the knot of anxiety in my chest.
I Forget about the tiredness I feel, as if it was a weight in my f*****g under eye bags,
(a result of crushing insomnia and a computer screen more familiar to me the my own family's face.)
Forget that I am surrounded by people and prying eyes.
When this song comes on the radio    Only, It's not on the radio, I'm not in my natural habitat.
not in my safe, comfortable, familiar room.
There is no radio in the rec room of  Jesus's heart--even if there were they wouldn't be playing this kind of music.

The world SNAPS back into existence around me.
several things happen at once.
My pool stick doesn't even connect with the ball.
 The boy I'm playing with curses under his breath.
The music stops.
 by this point (Chris? yeah his name was Chris) has come to terms with the fact that I suck, at pool and the whole flirtation thing, so he's ready to abandon the game like a ship but is politely sticking it out, while he wins as fast a humanly possible. When I straighten to look where the music is coming from I do not see a stereo.
I see a boy.
and his name is Hayden.
his hand paused mid strum like it forgotten what is what supposed to be doing.
For a small flyaway moment I'm impressed by how well he was playing a song that doesn't really have a strict
rhythm, on acoustic guitar.
But then he starts playing again and I play attention this time.
He watches me as he plays,
as he sings (a little hoarsely) to himself.
and as I pretend to focus on pool, he watches me.
I try not to make eye contact.