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| Rachel May (c) 2006 R. Montagne |
Music is existing inches from the pair of supple lips I've waited light years to kiss. The sensuous, warm breath sending shock waves through my bosom as the cosset explodes beneath my skin. It's the mesmerizing falsetto of every 80s front man, singing to my hormone-infused imagination. Music is the hair that tickles my nape with my soul mate's touch. It's the quiver that forces me to stumble around in the dark. Music is the air I breathe, the fire in my eyes and everlasting love in my heart.
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