She tasted the music, with its soft honey and cinnamon spice. She dwelled in the musics soft, delicate notes; making sure they wouldn't shatter before meeting the audiences ears. She created works of art which couldn't be seen, and washed flowers and roses over peoples heads with a flick of her violin bow.
He only heard the notes. And he only played.
-there are two types of musicians
YOU ARE READING
You | Poetry
Poetry"why are all my poems about you?" {highest is #3 in poetry} {cover by @wallflower_r} {completed}
