You speak Music.
Harmony is the way you woo me
–
and I dance.
Forgetting gravity…
but it remembered me
and pulled my feet to the
earth.
But you speak Art.
Color is the way you painted
me.
Brushstrokes by the painter
of the dawn,
forgetting black lines…
but they remembered me
and put me in a box.
So in darkness I reside
forgotten dance
forgotten color.
But you remembered me…
and you speak music,
and you speak art,
you speak… life.
