Postcard
On the way home, sun is rising, once more it is hard to believe how time flew by, it is another beautiful dawn, I wonder how many other dancers promised to meet by the stars for another night.
These nights, there was no need for a stage, and we did not want to be seen or hide but there were many who had noticed us sharing our box of chocolates every time we met. Within our embrace and through our steps, it is difficult to hide the panic as insane tenderness sets in, stronger roots on every turn, it becomes overwhelming and the whole never stops.
I'll miss us dancing till break of dawns - I know - soon it is time to say good-bye between us, and our sky could not be shared. When you are gone I'll send you a postcard telling you what it is like when you have never left my mind.
These nights, there was no need for a stage, and we did not want to be seen or hide but there were many who had noticed us sharing our box of chocolates every time we met. Within our embrace and through our steps, it is difficult to hide the panic as insane tenderness sets in, stronger roots on every turn, it becomes overwhelming and the whole never stops.
I'll miss us dancing till break of dawns - I know - soon it is time to say good-bye between us, and our sky could not be shared. When you are gone I'll send you a postcard telling you what it is like when you have never left my mind.
MilongaCat.
The Only Cat Who Loves You Back!
6 comments:
Lighting the horizon is a moon.
I extend my hand towards it,
but can not reach it.
The way we're staring at each other,
I see your eyes
conversing, and reading my whole being.
Like this, between the stars, we flew,
on top a magic carpet,
with ring shapes, rolling turns and steps,
following the waves of a dream,
with an accordion and violin,
and the midnight heat.
Like this, and for a fleeting moment
I felt the insanity was worth it.
The fleeting moments that leave traces behind, traces of "insane tenderness".
There was a man
A gentle breeze was his kindness
Could he become diffused
After providing the spark
So harsh were edges of her sheet
Where was her lost bossa nova
Forgive delayed light finders
Not amortized enough
Dancing alone every next tango
There was a man
A gentle breeze was his kindness
Could he become diffused
After providing the spark
So harsh were edges of her sheet
Where was her lost bossa nova
Forgive delayed light finders
Not amortized enough
Dancing alone every next tango
I loved your post. You often bring tears to my eyes.
HoneyPot,
That was a moving comment.
You are missed with every dizzy vals and heartfelt tango.
la tanguera,
You are always very generous with your praise. Thank you!
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