Fool

Rhye has forged a new scape in my musicology -- now there are ways to be found high above treeline, or in the deep trees of another.  Most songs on Woman get so close, then promptly breathe on the spot they teased; it's beautiful and opaque and like reading body language two days later.  Now, exfoliated, in full swoon, and hoping that pining blooms new words for tracing fingers toward an untried, unknown cusp.