the sound the sound

the music the music
doesn't describe
the sounds the sounds
pulsing through my head
beating through my heart
pouring out my mouth
falling to the ground the ground
dripping like paint
a painting a painting
of you and of me and of us
dancing across this world
this world dancing across your cheek
lacy like your hair your hair
caught in a breeze coming from
the clouds the clouds
clapping for us as we run down the aisles
and rows of people throwing rice
painting memories with
the sounds the sounds
we haven't yet made
we haven't yet heard
only coming close in
those dreams those dreams
that became our realities
words that sound like violins
laughs that sound like cymbals
kisses that sound like flutes climbing
scaling soaring high above
the din the din
of this life this life
as we know it
the silence the silence
is all we'll hear in the end
so we make all
the sound the sound
we possibly can