The Month of My Birth
THE MONTH OF MY BIRTH
The sound of June sounds like nothing but June.
Sweet! like the last drop of fine wine dripping from the warm tongue of a lover.
Leaving you wanting more for the remaining 29 days.
The sound of June to me is like music from 7 harps and a grand piano.
That sink my soul into the timelessness of the moment.
Junes come and go like rain.
Like porcelains leaving circles on the table.
Memorable photographs left hanging on the thin wooden
walls between love and hate; pleasure and pain;
lessons and mistakes; friendships, fights.
Coincidences; serendipity; synchronicity; light.
Epiphanies; truth; lies.
The sound of June breaks my heart.
Cos it reminds me of a little midget king plucking sunflowers to his mama.
Wearing a big permanent smile like the world would end if he didn't.
Now he's all hardened; like ice in a cold world.
No room for big hearts like his in the city.
Time's changed. But will change again.
It's still a beautiful world; With beautiful people.
Beautiful minds. Beautiful things.
Beautiful songs. Poetry; words.
Beautiful nights; Places.
Beautiful month.
For the sound of June sounds like nothing but June.
Sweet! like the last drop of fine wine dripping from the warm tongue of a lover.
Leaving you wanting more for the rest of the year.
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