I would like for you, please, to tell me a story--something true and good...
I've allowed myself to get entirely too caught up in someone I knew better than to allow myself to get caught up in and I'm muddled.
"Oooh dear" you said, and told me a story about the rain and, i think, want.
The next bit went like this...
Always, Jack, you have the best stories.
Maybe I never told you that, but you do.
(how odd that i typed out your name.
i generally don't care to address
anyone by name until i've
touched them.)
and you said this...
"Right, like you haven't touched me."
M onths ago, you asked me a question:
I...
Can you teach me to dance?
I would have to say yes.
this is it. this is dancing, these words.
Then I can teach you to sing.
hm--you most likely could not.
but you could let me hear you sing.
you inspire me to sing, i want you to know,
but the words catch in my throat. lost.
You've heard me sing.
I haven't.
(Have I?)
Depends on your definitions.
That was a most fair win on your part.
*smile*
I was raised to view my body merely as a vessel for carrying my thoughts around in. Dancing seems...
unnatural. I think I'd like to change that.
(me: odd how sadness causes so many body systems to become upset
you: so does joy)
+
I t's my turn to offer insight:
should you begin without me,
my first advice is to dance with your eyes closed.
your question deserved an answer.
this is only the beginning of one...