She said she didn't like singing and blushed when I asked her to. So selfishness, adventure, and that pink color of her flushed cheek combined into the goal to hear it, to hear her voice stretched and naked, like a lover waiting to be touched, her words like a silk sheet covering her secrets like the tiny freckles on her shoulders like the mole on her stomach like her scars and their stories that still make her cry. when she tells them. Her voice could be out of key, hell, it could shatter glass and make dogs howl at the moon, I would still love it, because it's hers. it's the skin beneath her skin, it will be beautiful. It will rattle my bones and take my breath. She said no, No way. she laughed and hid her face. But I pressed and I prodded and I begged constantly, because there is something dizzyingly sexy about a single voice and an audience of one. There is something about watching her eyes close and hair fall back as she would lift her face to the ceiling. and at last it happened. I can't place exactly why, Maybe it was because we were, in no uncertain terms, "a little too high" , or maybe I just wore her down. But as we laid together watching the iTunes visualizer, her head on my chest, she joined in with the music. Her voice rang out and carried to the stars came back down, broke through my ribs, and with warm nervous hands, held my heart and stopped my blood. The whole time she faced the laptop screen, Her eyes reflected all the colors of an interstellar nebula I let the moment surge through my soul, I tried to keep my gaze trained on her. but like a solar eclipse I needed protection and I almost went blind starring into this, her unveiling. She said she couldn't or she can't but she did and she is beautiful. She always was, she just hid this side. She was just like her voice, imperfect, quiet and scared but damn beautiful. It was sacred beauty it was profane beauty. mundane and fantastic beauty. It was Eve removing her fig leaf for Adam, Beauty Saying "I brought some garden with me" Beauty It was Lady slurping pasta and kissing the Tramp, Beauty. Two dogs eating garbage, But it was beauty. It was the first time I heard her sing she said she doesn't remember, but How could I forget?
Once there was a town so dark
Gloom and mist would fill the park.
Children played on broken swings
And told tall tales of the things
That lurked under each child’s bed
At night when all was asleep or dead.
Sorrow permeated this town’s people,
Dwelt above the church’s steeple.
Frustration bred an angry hate
For the cloud that sealed their fate.
Growing angry, the townspeople prayed,
Lashing out at the God who’d made
All this pain- perpetual plight,
And kept them in eternal night.
They never really stopped to see
That the cloud was gone and they were free.
All they saw was gloom endowed
Because in their hearts was still the cloud.
If your way is paved with thorns and fears
and your barefoot heart withdrew
I can shelter you to a new frontier—
I will move mountains to be with you.
If your feet can't move another foot
and fire's set to all you do
I can pull you through the ash and soot—
I will move mountains to be with you.
When the day is hot and night turns cold,
when my love for you seems worn and old;
just look behind you and remember, dear,
I have moved mountains to be right here.
Take my coat, the winter's rolling in,
take my shoes to warm your feet.
Take my heart, you will be safe within;
use my fire to warm your sheets.
If you take my hand and walk with me,
and if your faith's the size of mustard seeds,
Whether many or just a few—
I will move mountains for you.
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