Glastonbury (...let go every June of your life)

music is filling me up slowly
particles of sound sinking
under my skin
in places I never knew
I existed

I’ll never make it!

I’ll die touched by the hand of a bunch of strings
holding tight to my air guitar
covered in layers of broken light

I see you!

and your hands
lost
in a ballet of utter abandon

and these people are my witness and I witness all these people die
a similar death