Standing as Lovers and Visionaries

We try to rhyme rhythms
That open blind eyes,
But we stumble.
Because the rhythms come in a form we’re still learning how to play.

As the quiet stirs, chords weave and spin whispers of this new dance we can’t explain.

Until now.

I hear it’s the sound of sweet sweet.

A sweet-sweet,
I like to call…

The love-sick song…and path to freedom.

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