It's those moments, the calm after the storm. The grips and the sighs and the secretive whispers of words and cries. Our place. The serenity of your back. The tiredness of your face. The g l o r y of our spirits in their deepest aura. The very moment where our souls bid their farewells and touch each other one last time before going back to their tragically separated bodies. The longing in your voice. The weariness in mine. The salt and the sweat, the big eyes and the swollen lips, the embraces and bare arms, tangled up legs like willow tree branches, cheeks bright as summer roses, skin against skin, head in my chest, fingers in your hair, ear to my heart. Right then and there, where I hear orchestras of a thousand violins and double basses, cellos and sopranos and then the catches of violoncellos. A flute in the middle, a piano in the end. And then once again, millions of millions of violins and double basses.You are the melodies in my head. You are the notes written on my pages. You are the chords on my fingers. You are my orchestra.
You are my music. POSTED BY little girl blue ON Saturday, May 14, 2011 @ 10:38 PM
