(no subject)
Lost love, a classic theme, as common as a heartbeat or a breath. Infectious, it travels the skies. Winds its way through music and poetry, art and literature. If drifts up my arms from the words, worming its way into my mind. Twining around my brain it recalls everything. The kiss, the hate, the possession, and the obsession. Twisting about my tongue it manipulates my mouth into moving with the words.
Hands that exist only in memory slides down the soft skin of my arms in the moment. The music kisses my singing lips. Melody coaxes my hips to sway. The guitar causes my arms and hands to twine like snakes in the air. I dance alone, brave, and unafraid.
Lost love, a classic theme, as common as a heartbeat or a breath. Infectious, it travels the skies. Winds its way through music and poetry, art and literature. I’m a part of the disease, I’m a carrier. If you’re not careful, you’ll get infected too.
Hands that exist only in memory slides down the soft skin of my arms in the moment. The music kisses my singing lips. Melody coaxes my hips to sway. The guitar causes my arms and hands to twine like snakes in the air. I dance alone, brave, and unafraid.
Lost love, a classic theme, as common as a heartbeat or a breath. Infectious, it travels the skies. Winds its way through music and poetry, art and literature. I’m a part of the disease, I’m a carrier. If you’re not careful, you’ll get infected too.