Evaporar

A song is always filled with emotions and words, even when there are no lyrics, even if the poetic verses aren't in a language you know. On every beat there's a new glimmer, every delicately strummed chord holds a promise, and every breath creates a sound that I cannot begin to explain to you.
     I have recently discovered a song that has held me close. It's a warm song for a rainy day, to keep your chin up and your feet rooted. To keep an end in sight but enough distance to keep you captivated. I don't know what language it's in, probably Portuguese or Spanish. It's the type of song that you want to wrap in parchment wax and keep in your back pocket to be with you on the days where you feel especially lonely. I want this song to dance on the arteries pumping blood to my appendages. I want to embody this song.
     This song is not a song that I understand all of the words to. Ill catch the word "tempo" here and "t'aime" here, "Evaporar" echoing through the air that it's sound occupies. You don't need to know the words to know the song. Each note carries me like a breeze across a lake, a journey into a land unknown, promising me that I will return home.
     This song is a daisy on a golden summer day, or a bowl of hot broth once you've come home from a hard day of sledding. It's a song for the chipped paint along a windowsill of a house once called home, but since forgotten. It's a song to fit around your ankles like a new pair of socks, to slide around a smooth wood floor on. It's the wind that fills my sails during the first blowing day. It's the crust on the bread that I fed to the ducks. It's the stones on a trail in the woods. It's everything right in the world. Evaporar.
     I think I will use that word as a sort of adjective to tell a friend how I am, or what the most beautiful things and ideas are.