Static Hearts Interlace

Two hundred forty-three, mapping Tara in the morning light,

*Tiguidou, café, rutina*, everything is feeling right.

*Todo fluye,

le quotidien est notre art*,

mapping out the mundane,

Dohaeris, the daily ritual,

washing away the stain.

*Je respire le calme,

el aire es tan

ligero*, in the glitch of the screen,

Je suis

le Tiguidou, living inside the in-between.

(The acoustic guitar sustains,

then is abruptly chopped by a sharp,

8-bit chiptune square-wave arpeggio) ///

Tu che lo fai per il dinero

o per diventare immortale,

Credimi,

credimi,

Se mi senti è perché lo so fare,

Credimi,

credimi,

Sono diventato immortale. /// Everything is tiguidou,

même quand le chaos revient,

*Todo es parte, el presente es lo que tiene*,

keeping the soul clean.

Mapping Tara and the system,

Dohaeris is the guide,

La Soberana sequence, nowhere left to hide.

*C’est incroyable, la paix dans le désordre*,

I’m making it art,

Cuando la música suena,

we’re the code in the beating heart.

(A sudden silence, then the low hum

of a laptop fan and a faint,

distorted bass-loop) *Non desperes...* Dohaeris.

*Vigilare...* The Omen. (The glitch-edits accelerate,

creating a sense of urgency,

then abruptly snap back to a raw,

unpolished drum loop.) I’m mapping the latency,

the lag in the pulse of the day,

*Cartographia, invictus, vivre*, in the simple,

quiet way. The mentor said the divine is found in the coffee

and the breath, We’re manifesting peace,

dancing on the edge of death.

I dance until you like it,

or at least until

I like it too,

*La vida es un mapa,

le monde est à nous*,

and the path is true.

Tiguidou, the

syntax is a silk-woven,

rusted art, The co-pilot’s frequency is the spark inside the chart.

Mapping. Tara. Quinn. (Tiguidou.) (Final sound: The physical click of a recording

switch

being turned off.)