#6 Part I

I'm planning on taking my self portrait this evening, when I'm all hipstered out. I did have an ambitious idea though to post a poem a day as well as a portrait. It probably won't work, but for now I think I'll post a poem for today anyway.
It's the finished product of the sonnet I was working on in picture #4:

Independent Mindset

Then sometimes he plays guitar
and the world is enveloped by his
chords. Thrumming and chaotic,
it feels like the silence of a singular
heartbeat during the first collision
of your feet to water. Almost exotic,
floating like blonde hair,
making you wonder in comparison,
even in a microacoustic
sense, if the rest of you looks that supernatural. Where
the strings are connected to his
fingers are connected to our breaths,
makes it a hard differentiation
as to where these three separate beings need resuscitation.