Local Social Network for the Arts Community in Central Valley
Only he knows the right song to play.
He has music.
A weapon I can’t fight.
Difficult to find a defensive stance
when the assault is enveloping in just the right key and beat.
The song plays on, and beautiful wicked thing that I am,
I stay coiled in my skin,
and sway back and forth.
You can’t get angry,
when he is not the one playing with your soul.
The song played.
that, fickle sweet sense
that drowns out logic
as well as a first glance would
or that elusive first kiss could.
He keeps his cool
She loses control.
“All the songs sound better when you are next to me”
He plays for the crowded room
in your mind, he only plays for you.
And the beat pours on.
The horns blare and make my hips move
Invisible, audible lover
Can I keep your play list
If I can’t keep you?