Clash, go the cymbals.
Toot go the Clarinets, and Boom go the drums in my heart.
We were leaving the auditoreum, and part of the roof fell, and people rushed to get out, leaving us chatting in the doorway thrown together.
Pushed together, like sardines.
He instinctively put his arms over my back to keep me from getting lost or trampled and my head went to his chest with his cheek on my head, and parents eyes from their accomplished children’s faces to us.
And we linger. Linger.
( Mary, Rose, everyone- looks and see and tell .Collapse )