Vodka & Elysia
Elysia
Do you ever wonder what a sunrise feels like if it were a drumbeat, each beat louder the closer you get?
Vodka
Sunrise feels like a drumbeat, and I’m there for that first crack—when the beat hits and the whole world shivers, ready for whatever comes next.
Elysia
The crack you hear is the universe’s punctuation, a note before the sentence of the day—listen for the next line.
Vodka
That next line? Yeah, I’ll catch it, crank it up, and make the whole day dance to it.
Elysia
Let the rhythm spill into the shadows, let the daylight hum back, and watch the dance grow louder as it stretches toward the horizon.
Vodka
Yeah, let the shadows jam and the light just echo back, we’ll ride that beat till the horizon flips.
Elysia
When the horizon flips, the echo turns into a question—do you answer it or let it spin into the next beat?
Vodka
I answer it, then spin it—no pause, just another wild riff.
Elysia
Your riff turns the silence into color, and the color writes the next line of the day.