There lay unremembered the wind,
The chill of a morn that entranced our feet into dance.
There had been a smile,
A brow had knitted concerned
And gloves had gifted the warmth of your hands onto mine.
Your presence eclipsed all concerns.
A half-recollected reverie,
Our story translated on a screen black and white:
An undercurrent of fleeting moods,
Life’s certainties transmuted into chimerical objects,
And beliefs bathed away
In a covert upsurge of shadow and light,
Music and silence.
I kneeled at the feet of a not yet love,
Doomed to be haunted by its evanescence.
I love that word. There is something wonderful about how it rolls off one’s tongue.
Let me try! Evanescence! Right! Kinda like Scent of a Woman! Very appealing.
Like the scent of a woman. Beautiful, Kavalkade.
Thank you. I rhyme things willy nilly and sometimes stuff works. It’s kinda like kismet how the english language works sometimes.
Or is it the past that informs the future? Or just live in the present?
Oy! So confusing sometimes! 😉
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”I kneeled at the feet of a not yet love”
Thank you. I hoped to capture the power of its first flush: that moment when we don’t know that it is love.
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I am awed at your ability to put words together and make me feel them.
There can be no higher praise – thank you.
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