Soul Threads Head: would words ever suffice? Shoulder: to soothe your soul? no so feel me I am there just out of your vision always moving as you do in fact… I am becoming part of you so close that you cannot focus and then I am in you not touching… anything nothing that can be touched anyway I am only singing to ears of ethereal existence to a soul that hears notes like wind chimes pulsing to a beat of reverie of calm tears that drop in ponds to warm my feet we bathe in the clouds that are us... we make shapes for grass bound lovers to interpret we are lips we are faces we are bodies once again and yet we are free floating words are what I have to work with here... Head: you have always been amazing with words ... Shoulder: they are catalysts for what I can only hope to send you
But you get the idea, no? Communication is nothing more than ideas, and words are merely a standard for transferring these ideas between one another. If you get the idea, then what cost have I charged by the form in which it was written? Words are words. Poetry is emotions, and emotions are people.
'that drop in ponds to warm my feet we bathe in the clouds that are us... we make shapes for grass bound lovers to interpret we are lips we are faces we are bodies once again' Very nice flow and it aches to be read aloud! Write on!
