By Star of David Date: 2013 Jan 28 Comment on this Work [[2013.01.28.05.29.10779]] |
you can’t help but wonder at the way he kisses – too tender, as if he isn’t certain he’s allowed, let alone desired – you catch your breath, fight for air; the night weighs heavy – his kisses are almost as light as the touch of his fingers (raindrops, sliding) – what a time to remember ‘the prophet’ – the pain of too much tenderness – too-much-tenderness his instrument, too tender, his music – he plays it for you best: you let him. |