There are conversations that can only be had by two people. The kind of soul stirring confessions and reflections that are too deep to say while looking in the eyes of the other person. The thoughts and yearnings that come to the surface when the lights are low and music takes the pang out of each syllable, making it easier to communicate one's feelings. One's true feelings. The conversations that make you think of your grandmother; the one who died before you were born. Is she proud of me? What would she say? What does she think? The words that haunt and hunt you the next day, making it hard to read even one page from the book you ferociously read just yesterday. You look back at the page realizing you haven't read shit the whole bus ride. The stomach churns and your heart giggles at the remembrance of the things said. I had such a conversation- just last night. There is a thump in my soul today. It's on beat though- so I welcome it.
Sips of his cognac. Tribal house beats. Just. Last. Night...make for a hazy, tipsy Wednesday.
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