what something sounds like can’t change what it is:
the sound of a drawer opening. the north wind on the telephone lines. the A train click-clacking on the track between Nostrand and Utica Avs. the key turning in the door to an empty apartment. footsteps retreating.
but sound opens sound. it taps a spot that’s inside me with a lyric, or melody, and the door to music opens:
the sound of clothes being emptied from the drawer by a departing lover. the whisper of the dangling farewell. the closing train door that separates two but maybe only for a little while. the hollow echo of my voice in the apartment. me walking beside you, a whole sadness apart.
cookie nieves 
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