I play on keys as if a piano stringing a song of words. Forgetting composition and structure. I am a bit old school with a librarian life, a longing for days gone. Not in the past, but in craft history. A time when love would wait and the heart did not want.
Mine is mine and no one else can bring me back to a modern day. I have signed up for apps to appease the concern for a lack of concern. Can passion be enough? And if in some way our feet should meet then we can dance a glass of wine to the truth. For now, isn’t it ok to be a woman who loves the journey?
Sometimes I do wonder if there is another meant to stand beside, but it is really not a dramatic intention. Pressures of others make me want to stay single. Just to spite the expectation that love will heal all the clues. Not so, but of course I do know of the great fun we would have when the time comes. Until then let me get on with this adventure.