Piano Feet

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My toes find purchase on your keys
While I swing my arms, open to the breezes
of time that pass by in the sun's arc.

Tiptoeing around your curves,
the cure for a malaise throws itself
casually back to the skies, 

The dance goes on with the music
of an inner being playing with abandon
the notes of this curling time. 

© Gerry at Strummed Words