Seven days is all I can say that makes any sense,
at least of today.
A cloudy impasse, a shorn silken smite.A melody & a purpose, to welcome tonight.
As the weekend slips nearer, & we lace up our dreams, the beauty we’ll share, will split at the seams.
Pouring love & it’s detritus all over each other, as we kiss the morning awake from under the cover.
So hold my hand & decide, which way it will go. Will it hurt or just tickle? You don’t try, you won’t know.
Let us take hold of the chances by the scruff of the neck. & darnce blindly & proudly & give what we get……