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Making Music

I'm finished singing to the air, Where winds blow memories away; Where phantom feelings fall and dry, Like tears from a forgotten rain So let me use my hands instead, To gently pluck your sweetest notes; To cradle and caress with care, Your body and your soul laid bare I want to hear your secret sounds, And taste the passion on your tongue; To see soft music in your eyes, And feel crescendos of your love I'm finished playing for myself, The pretty chords that fade with time; I want your warm and loving heart Forever fused with mine.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2023




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Book: Shattered Sighs