to a chanteuse. confounding torch songs and expectations with equal aplomb.

you are going to be exquisite tonight. I know that much. even without the flute nonsense…who are you, herbie mann? sadia is not yusef lateef.

singin your lovely little hybrid ass off? that’s you. even playsinging, at karaoke night in your aunt’s house. blew me the fuck away. so now, do it for the audience you have owned over the years. you think they just give those best vocalist awards out to just any random loser?

take it to the bridge, sad eyes. break a leg (not a toe). and make it hood.

0 thoughts on “sangin’.

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