I said yes
Her mother's wedding recordings, cut up beyond recognition and rebuilt
the numbers
- bpm
- 144
- key
- F minor
- energy
- 0.76
- dance
- 0.96
- valence
- 0.58
- vocal at
- 1.7s
- length
- 3:16
- language
- Ar
lyrics
At six-thirty, rain on the taxi glass, You slid me a paper cup, asked if I’d pass. One small yes in the queue by the door, Now my name sits changed on your calendar drawer. Bus No. 49 hissed past the curb, I said yes, and my pulse did a weird little curve. Your keys in my palm, cold as a coin, One tiny green light and the whole year joined. You looked at me once Like it mattered that much The spoon hit the saucer Then everything touched I said yes I said yes I said yes I said yes One small yes One small yes One small yes One small yes August in Jabal Amman, dry on the skin, We split one peach on the steps and let juice run in. Your voice on my phone at 1:14 AM, Saying, “Come outside,” and I came again. A blue plastic chair on the balcony floor, Your laugh hit the tile like a key in a drawer. I didn’t plan much, just the ride and the dress, But that tiny first nod turned into the rest. I said yes I said yes I said yes I said yes One small yes One small yes One small yes One small yes Now the old week cracks Like a shell in my hand I keep the small thing I keep the plan At the corner kiosk With the orange gum rack I chose one word And I never took it back I said yes I said yes I said yes I said yes One small yes One small yes One small yes One small yes
