syncopation

maybe it’s seeing a baby-now-a-child and hearing your voice say ‘i won’t be home’ and wanting to avoide the syncopation that consumes our family.  just staying on beat, hearing the metronome and following it, and you jump, half-way between dotted eighth notes and i don’t have time.  it’s all about this time and your meanings.  less about your intentions, i guess.  that’s what i’m told.  just look at the words and drink them in, like champagne from a paper cup.