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gothicsurrealistPoems
The voice, that dances amongst the beating chambers of your heart strings, the harp’s tune; now tickled, notes reach their staff to descend upon their bass.
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Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
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The voice, that dances amongst the beating chambers of your heart strings, the harp’s tune; now tickled, notes reach their staff to descend upon their bass.
Poem about a girl I dated who could sing. My poetry/short story website: www.gothicsurrealism.com
#sound#voice#dance#heart#tune#harp
gothicsurrealist
Written by
gothicsurrealist
31/M/Massachusetts
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
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