24 October 2012
Slow movers, whispering softly Into each others perfumed necks, Creamy hand to tailored shoulder, Wise palm placed loosely on the elegant waist Of a girl named Rose With lips a shade of blush
Slow the steps that lull the eve away Into the sweet sleep of the pianos lament. And so, we float: our feet kiss the floor A temptation to float away into the night Prevented only by the tap of our shoes That echoes, as the glasses clink, And please us so with proof of this dream In which we reside, And people speak of idle talk, and walk Through corridors, with silken skirts and tails Swaying behind them, Not In love, but married so
And I kiss Rose, On the lips, And we aside for now into the night
Slow Movers In The Night • Opuss № I