Deep Breaths from Dimitra LP by Maudlin Library

In a frame, a field of flowers, a piano, a man to play.
She smiles and there is a bouquet in her hand.
Lilting petals, piano notes linger on their fleeting life.
There is no sun. Only a muted yellowy beige that swallows us all with its mundane.

There are blushing petals by her hand, gentle tones coming from his fingers,
in this frame, this field of flowers waltz through this crescendo.
Mimic the grace of a ballerina.
For I am a broken instrument.. play your notes right,
Let them know this is an unheard song.
Let them sing an unknown lyric
7 years ago we could have been fooled.

What about 7 years from now? What if this frame will still exist by then?
What will not? What unheard songs will get written? What new meaning will be created?
How much further into this field of flowers;
this graveyard of an oil painting will these words be forgotten?

Do I remain?
Which flowers will grow where I once stood, only to fall apart where I once did.

In this frame, a field of flowers, she stands, not with a smile, but with a bouquet of blushing roses.
Doing everything she cannot

Deep breathes for my blood cells. They’re beginning to asphyxiate

In this frame, a field of flowers, she stands, not with a smile, but with a bouquet of blushing roses.
Doing everything she cannot

• Alternative
• Spoken Word
• hiraeth
• independent
• meloncholy
• spoken word
• Saskatoon