The Calculation of Loss

Written by: Conor Jordan

I Love The Sound it Makes When The Fingers
Slide String, Switching From Chord to Chord.

                - Like a Straw Piercing Plastic -

Music is My Only Solace, My Withdrawal From
Everything, But it Neglects My Frailty.

                - I Can Hear Their Souls in My Fretboard -

But There's No Sight Any More, No Interaction,
No Touch, No Love. We Are Barren.

                - The Killing of Muses -

The Movement of a Thousand Fingers, Smoothing
Horse Hair Across Suspended Steel.

                - Washes Right Through Me -

They Snuffed out like Candles. One by One
I left Them, and They Went in all Directions.

                - I -

The First One Was an Icebreaker Session,
Right Into Reality, Seeded By Angst.

                 - II -

The Second Destroyed Every Perception
I Had of Love, But I Was So Young.

                 -III-

The Third Made Me Miserable, Masochistic
And Fuelled Entirely By My Loins.

                -IV-

The Fourth, Separated by Inconceivable 
Distance Through My Raw Isolation.

                - So Much Beauty -

But as I Stand Here, Sifting Through Nostalgic 
Debris, I Can't Help But Think... 

...I Lost so Much More.