Table of Spring
Blanket of words,
sleeping soundlessly underneath it.
Making the season of poetry,
absent of desperation.
Discomfort is wicked,
it plays the night on the chessboard of conversation.
Splitting seeds on the table of spring,
with the blanket of words,
whom is woven with fine silk of vanishing silence.
The wind shifts direction,
when faced with confusion.
Your hands speak louder than your eyes.
Gestures of chimneys rising with anger,
gestures of willows whispering wisdom,
gestures of hands shriveling with age.
Intrik, from Indonesia, offers a six-track EP that’s the perfect blend of woozy, hypnagogic melodies and dreamlike rhythms. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 5, 2023