Icarus's blog: "Hurts to watch."

I remember when it was about the music.
Now its about the dance.
The design.
The jeans.
The shitty line of t-shirts and body sprays.

She let her hair down today.
Something about the clay highlights in her skin
the fiery light of the copper in her slept-in mane
tussled by a scrunched up face and wild frenzied fingers
those dark dark eyes with darker dimensions of intent
and piqued, round soft cheeks
perfect for dozing
scrunched up with a trail of drool

Always asks me if she was snoring...

but this was about her face
until I got distracted by the walk.

Like she could step through a solid wall of bullshit and assumption.
Power behind the legs.
Poise poised on the heels.

But what I said to the man with the gun is true now.
You can bulldoze a gallery
you can burn a restaurant built by very tired hands
you can kill the prophet
but there is more power in the kindness than the bullet.
the beauty you destroyed
the beauty you created in destroying the gentility

Lake's only serene til you make a ripple and ask to take it back.

That's the smile that slew me.

I could cover a wall in words about her presence
the way she forgets my name
the way the lines run down her, like master craft
the way I'll never breathe against that silky mocha skin
the many many ways I could love her better

But this time its about the music.
This time its about her smile.