Washing over you like a fine glass surface, melody races between swirling shadows and muted breathing, twisting traces that tie tight. Demon eyes covered by savagely shaded lenses. Throbbing pulse with or without reason; producing sweat. Dancing too fast for hollow bodied vibes/vibrations. Lips puckering. Neon make up and street signs. Contact reflections while the bottom drops out. Visage-A, “Yeah-yeah.” #ponytailwhiplash. Blonde eyebrows being raised in sync with the acute corners of your mouth. Strawberry lip gloss. Visage-B, “It brings to light them ‘Endless Nights.’” Maybe on a black beat up cassette tape? Noir-fetishist fever on Not Not Fun early 2012.