Softly, his fingers
caress piano keys –
lost in a melody

Swan-like she drifts
across the dance floor,
enchantment in motion

Their love is like this –
wordlessly he manipulates,
gracefully she capitulates.

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

25 thoughts on “Synchronicity”

  1. I guess that would be the opposite of one of the best book titles I’ve ever seen: Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument Until the Fingers Begin to Bleed a Bit. 🧐

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