| Too much to let go, prone to tears, when music moves you so far away, as your senses wind to unwind, and the song drifts note by note into darkness. The tenor bows, then straightens up, glancing at your face, his momentous gaze searching for signs, if his flame helped you to be more, in this unobtrusive way. His seduction still steeping inside your trivial life, you leap to applaud a dusky tale written in invisible ink, filtered through vocal cords; since, sometimes truth can only be sung. |