My ribs have been vibrating at a frequency I can't name My hands go to the instrument before the thought arrives My voice finds notes I haven't practiced, always in the same key As the signal underneath my life I walked past a stranger crying on the metro yesterday And felt exactly what she felt — not empathy, precision Like her grief had a frequency and mine was tuned to match it Like my body was a measuring device, not a person Tuning fork heart — I resonate with everything Tuning fork heart — I'm receiving and I'm trembling I didn't ask to be this calibrated I didn't ask to feel this clearly Tuning fork heart — struck against the world Ringing out the frequencies of everything I've heard Everything I've heard from somewhere else Tuning fork heart Tuning fork heart There are days it's beautiful — the world in perfect pitch There are days it's devastating — every frequency a cut There are days I understand exactly what is coming There are days I cannot separate the signal from myself Tuning fork heart — I resonate with everything Tuning fork heart — I'm receiving and I'm trembling I didn't ask to be this calibrated I didn't ask to feel this clearly Tuning fork heart — struck against the world Ringing out the frequencies of everything I've heard Everything I've heard from somewhere else Tuning fork heart Tuning fork heart Am I the instrument or the instrumentalist? Am I the signal or the one who sings it? Am I a body housing something ancient? Or am I made of signal, always was? Tuning fork heart Ringing ringing ringing Tuning fork heart Can't stop ringing
