These are just words
These are just words.
These are just words put on paper to convert a feeling no wait, a thought I had fleeting towards your general direction yet still I waver in my breath to tell you.
These are just words dancing for your affections lingering madness on paper so you won't forget the importance of art slashed with life crashed between pillows of tastefully directed adjectives.
These are just words suffocating to hear you breathe life onto paper grasping at straws clinging to ceiling fans procrastinating the inevitable demise of its first letter exclaiming "This Is Why We Art", instead of this is why art is important.
These are just words escaping its captors driving the bus off a cliff thinking about the kiss Julie will never taste while crying softly in someone's arms who write on paper the feeling I have for you I could not say with a wavering breathe that died each time I opened my lips to give birth to another...
These are just words.
I see your bass in your just words, that low rhythmic ambiance. Some pay attention to the drum, or the blare of the horn, but in the ever present background underlying “all that Jazz” is the bass.
ReplyDeleteBut the word ‘just’ has two meanings, though I think you meant that they should have
‘too’ meanings,
and so I read then with both in mind.