She floats…
And it draws forth his strength.
The piano plays soft melodies unlocking his doors-
That’s why they’re called piano keys.
And her joy guitar strings his heart to pure happiness…
He can never stay mad
He is obligated to throw it in the trash, because who she is- makes him GLAD.
In the lounge he stands on stage flowing in poetry…
Flowing, knowing that knowledge of you is costly for it cost himself…
Just like it cost Christ.
He loves for he WAS loved by THE love…
Her heart beat, beats slow like a sensual dance on a congo…
Up, down, body roll
The fire of his life- pyro
The orchestra head of light- maestro
And he might go home… or not
In his heart he knows he must marry her, because life is a rotating revolution
And at the first touch of Heaven- it STOPS.
As did his.
As did mine.
A timeless phrase can never be deemed cliche, and so with fervent heart cadence of joy I say-
Baby you are one of a kind.

~The Wordsmith


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