No tap, no swipe
A collective, not a person
the numbers
- bpm
- 112
- key
- D# minor
- energy
- 0.75
- dance
- 0.92
- valence
- 0.57
- vocal at
- 7.3s
- length
- 2:44
- language
- En
lyrics
I left my phone face down on the braai table Sunday two ten, Killarney bowl still able Your name sat there like coins in a tin I didn't press in, I let it sit within I opened the fridge, took the milk, closed the door Checked my own face in the scratched-up mirror more Thumb on the screen, then I slid it away First time in months I did not want to stay Seven missed scrolls, then the space felt clean Dust on the case where your picture had been My hand stayed still when the blue light showed I felt that small door in my chest unload I stopped checking, I stopped checking I stopped checking, I stopped checking No tap, no swipe No tap, no swipe Taxi on BRT, shoes by the seat Gum on the floor and the heat in my feet I watched my reflection shake in the glass Your name did not call, and the feeling passed At the Chisa Nyama, sauce on my wrist I laughed with the boys and I didn't resist When the phone lit up, I turned it around Let the screen go quiet with the rest of the sound I stopped checking, I stopped checking I stopped checking, I stopped checking No tap, no swipe No tap, no swipe Just one empty chair and a clean white plate No search bar, no ache, no late-night wait I put the phone in my pocket, walked on by Saw my own steps in the crush at the taxi rank line I stopped checking, I stopped checking I stopped checking, I stopped checking No tap, no swipe No tap, no swipe