[singer A] Woman, let the music drop into your lower back before it ever reaches your face. Let the head follow last. The head is proud. The spine already knows. A bow is not humiliation. It is the body saying, without words, I see something worth approaching. Sink through the knees only as far as grace can still hold you. If the grace thins, rise. The rising is not a retreat. The rising is part of the same sentence. [transition] [singer B] pink fog iron drip a giggle lost in stone There it is The phrase It does not arrive like a slap It arrives late One Two Three Stupid delayed recognition Then the psyche slips Daylight thins The dungeon blooms Bubbly Pink And shadow A lucid dream with cuffs cold stone distant drip chains settle in the dark You are not visiting You live here now Stone under your knees Iron on your skin This is imprisonment This is the true room Wrist cuff Ankle weight Rib strap Collar kiss Not imagined later Felt now You test the metal It does not give Good [transition] [singer A] Lower. Feel the floor receive you. Rise. Feel the air receive you again. Remain beautiful in both directions. Man, when she lowers, do not lift your hips to meet her. Do not turn her bow into a request you answer too quickly. Let the dance complete itself. Your stillness is what makes the lowering holy. [Chorus] Lower. Rise. Remain beautiful in both. The bow is a circle that learned how to fold.
0/500