blue glasses
glittering from the stage
there's a punk hiding
under the bleached hair
the punk reaches out
curles his fingers
all but one
soaks in the delighted screams
punk slips back under
the coy expat grin
reaching into the shadows
eager fingers find metal
long and thin
pliable
their graceful blur
against two striking black half-circles
ripple the air
freeze time
for those who understand
who feel the music
