Canem Story Time with Prince

Joy in Repetition

Mature content. Story starts past lyrics.

Joy in Repetition, PRN (1990)

All the poets and the part time singers always hang inside

Live music from a band plays a song called "Soul Psychodelicide".

The song's a year long and had been playing for months when he

Walked into the place.

No one seemed to care, an introverted this-is-it look on most of their faces.

Up on the mic repeating two words, over and over again

Was this woman he had never noticed before he lost himself in the

Articulated manner in which she said them.

These two words, a little bit behind the beat.

I mean just enough to turn you on.

For every time she said the words another one of his doubts were gone.

Should he try to rap with her? Should he stand and stare?

No one else was watching her, she didn't seem to care.

So over and over, she said the words til he could take no more, (no more)

He dragged her from the stage and together they ran through the back door

In the alley over by the curb he said tell me what's your name

She only said the words again and it started to rain (rain, rain, rain)

Two words falling between the drops and the moans of his condition

Holding someone is truly believing there's joy in repetition.

There's joy in repetition.

She said love me, love me, what she say?

She say love me, love me.

Sanem

I walk into the small club and look around; it's just what I expected...just what I wanted.  It's the kind of place that's lit with dim blue lights and is filled with smoke that kind of just hangs in the air.  There are a few people at the bar, and a few couples scattered across tables.  It's open mic night, and there's a man on stage playing the guitar and singing something sad.  I'm nervous--I've never done anything like this before, but I need it.  I go to the bar and order something girly--I like my drinks sweet and fruity, the kind that suddenly hit you hard before you realize you're already at the bottom of your glass. 

I'm wearing the yellow dress that I've only worn once--and that was to purposefully drive him crazy.  If I'm being honest, I'm wearing it for the same reason tonight.  I'm glad it still fits after three kids--I still look good in it--I know I'll still make him crazy.  My shoulder-length hair is curled into gentle waves, I've emphasized my eyes, and gone with a subtle look for the rest of my makeup.

I smile as I remember getting ready to come out earlier that evening.  Sila was sitting on my bed, watching me put on my makeup.  She told me I look like a fairy princess, and she offered me her fairy wings because she thought they would look beautiful with my dress.  Sila is five now, but her mind is much older.  She's just like me, in appearance and in spirit; she has dark hair and dark eyes, just like mine--and her mind is always in the clouds, just like mine.  We made her the first time we made love, and she is our perfect gift and constant reminder that our love is more powerful than anything else that might conspire to keep us apart.  Since Sila, we've welcomed two more angels to our family: Aslan--who is the spitting image of Can, but with Leyla's coloring--and Aiyla, our wild storm--not even a year old yet--who is the perfect blend of the two of us.