Read and Review.
Sun dazzling smiles of acres of white canvas,
Pulled at the edges by thrumming flesh
Humming with energy, bouncing with restrained joy
Sparkled in the eyes of the night sky, twirling and turning
To the beat of a song.
A song that blinks out among the vast, full nothingness
I call my dear mother.
This is why I write.
To exist and fade, changing nothing, always forgotten, like dust in the wind.
Every breath might be my last, and I will have changed
Nothing.
Touched the heart of
No one.
No!
My dances of words remain!
What is a sway, skip, and a hum among friends?
Shall we foxtrot among whispers of devotion uttered to a lover?
Yes, let us waltz into declarations of joy and excitement!
Careen into a turbulent ocean of temperamental emotions!
And frolic amidst delicate implications of hidden conspiracy.
I write to express what I cannot speak.
I write to convey the dance of words
Prancing behind my eyelids like deer in the spring.
I write to release the flood.