Era
04-06-2011, 10:56 PM
:Listen:
A short little story based on a dream I had the other day.
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Neat carefully trimmed edges, of pearled tips against lightly tanned skin. A slender, but curved body, and pursed berry - stained lips. Her bangs were swept to either side. Smoothed out, and ironed dark jean, that billowed out slightly at the bottom, hugged her hips. Soft, sleek, curls of pale gray brushed across, and over her shoulders, in wispy tufts. A light hum started low in her belly, rising high to her throat. A steady beat drummed out began the faint tapping of her feet along the floor. Her hips swayed, and her body followed the quiet sound of the strings played upon the guitar.
"Listen to this tale I tell," her voice calls, soft, but loud, as she begins to sing. Her voice hushes, in a whisper of a warning.
"Listen close, and listen well." She rises once more, calling out to the shadows encircled around her.
"Hey, hey, hey." She draws them closer, taking one by the hand, till it's form solifies slightly. She is whisked around by her silent partner, as the beat goes faster. Their bodies spinning, moving, and gliding as her words tell the story of a hope. They respesent first love. Of dreams drawn of worlds we've never seen. Of a time outside of time, frozen in a written moment, and captured in movement of the dance.
They break apart, and the violin begins, it's slow, rhythmic winds mingling with the beats of their broken hearts. The other shadows draw her partner away, as she sings the lullaby of the fading stars. "A bleeding sky, of the darkest night, those little burstings of fleeting light." Her voice is soft, yet the watcher feels pulled as if beside her, and aches as though the pain is their own.
"Listen close and listen well, listen to this tale I tell." With a faint gust of a breeze, the dancer disappears, and takes her shadows with her.
A short little story based on a dream I had the other day.
----------------
Neat carefully trimmed edges, of pearled tips against lightly tanned skin. A slender, but curved body, and pursed berry - stained lips. Her bangs were swept to either side. Smoothed out, and ironed dark jean, that billowed out slightly at the bottom, hugged her hips. Soft, sleek, curls of pale gray brushed across, and over her shoulders, in wispy tufts. A light hum started low in her belly, rising high to her throat. A steady beat drummed out began the faint tapping of her feet along the floor. Her hips swayed, and her body followed the quiet sound of the strings played upon the guitar.
"Listen to this tale I tell," her voice calls, soft, but loud, as she begins to sing. Her voice hushes, in a whisper of a warning.
"Listen close, and listen well." She rises once more, calling out to the shadows encircled around her.
"Hey, hey, hey." She draws them closer, taking one by the hand, till it's form solifies slightly. She is whisked around by her silent partner, as the beat goes faster. Their bodies spinning, moving, and gliding as her words tell the story of a hope. They respesent first love. Of dreams drawn of worlds we've never seen. Of a time outside of time, frozen in a written moment, and captured in movement of the dance.
They break apart, and the violin begins, it's slow, rhythmic winds mingling with the beats of their broken hearts. The other shadows draw her partner away, as she sings the lullaby of the fading stars. "A bleeding sky, of the darkest night, those little burstings of fleeting light." Her voice is soft, yet the watcher feels pulled as if beside her, and aches as though the pain is their own.
"Listen close and listen well, listen to this tale I tell." With a faint gust of a breeze, the dancer disappears, and takes her shadows with her.