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Two silhouettes converged into one,
They differ in the way they expressed.
She speaks through her body,
He talked with paper.
"The thought of watching her excites me."
"I can't forget the fog lights that dimmed when she came."
Through her simple gestures,
Something had reached me.
One single move changed my mood.
And it all started when she flipped her hair.
I was the writer, she was the dancer...We differ in the way we expressed.
But we both spoke through our soul.
YOU ARE READING
Seventh Sentiments
PoetryA collection of stories, made into a Poetic fiction and tailored fit with blood, tears, effort, and time. From people's lives, From the subconscious mind, From randomness and reasons. Come! Read & Explore what's behind each soul!
