With long flicks and swishes of her wrist,
She painted a song.
She drew the music
As if we were to hear it with our eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Second Thoughts, Third Thoughts
PoetryHighest - #36 in Poetry "Not only did I love her, but I could tell the universe loved her, too. More than others. She was different. After all, I would be a fool not to notice the way the sunshine played with her hair." -Christ...
