Too many
In the symphony of life, my music plays,
A melody woven through the fleeting days.
Notes dance like fireflies in the evening sky,
As I strum my guitar, and let my spirit fly.
But amidst the chords and harmonies sweet,
There’s a moment that makes my heart skip a beat.
When her hand brushes mine, in a gentle caress,
And I feel the warmth of her touch, a tender press.
Her touch is like poetry, soft and divine,
Sending shivers down my spine.
In the silence between notes, her touch speaks,
Of love and longing, of dreams and peaks.
With each stroke of the strings, I feel her near,
Her presence a solace, a comfort dear.
Her fingers linger, tracing patterns unseen,
As if weaving her essence into the music’s sheen.
Together we create a symphony of two,
In the quiet moments, when words won’t do…
