the science of sound

all our footprints linger on. barely there echoes resounding the words and phrases and shouting and music we have been. and although we can't always find them, they are always there.

the forensics on our bodies can be so blinding if the science is ours. scars from guitars, cadence of chords we can't seem to navigate from. from how we couldn't imagine it to be in any other terms. even when we're long gone, the evidence will remain. souvenirs for you to frame and place upon your mantle. souvenirs for all the veneers you've barely carried yourself behind. lost amongst all the echoes of words and phrases and shouting and music.

we are scientists, but the science is against us. we are archaeologists and ultrasonographers and audiologists and seismologists. we see and hear and sense and feel the physics of love all around. it bears its weight down and barrels around in this science of sound and silence and treason.

with our gaits so heavy, all our footprints linger on. like the echoes resounding and resonating, but impossible to find or consign or resign or invite back home. yes, the footprints linger on beneath the pavements we are pounding, the mountains we have mounded and the voices we've become.