Confident with your back to the audience. Tremolo strings begin with your gesturing wrist. Start the orchestra slow with an elegant aire. Then a circular sweep crescendoing swell.
The news has got me paranoid. Papers and the news reports. Casualties of every war. The anchor people keeping score. . The weapons now are chemicals. In water and in air above.
Some people get bit from the inside. When they talk it's cold and sour. And no, there's nothing they can do now. They've had their way too many times.
It's a scene from the movie. It's an aisle at the store. It's the view of a canyon. The sound of a sword. . It's an orchard of peaches. Your wife in the shower.
Was it more than attraction and a physical lust?. Her loins, my imagination, that first inconceivable touch. That I was planning, uh, I mean wishing, uh.