Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

after the beat is the rest

when she hums, the sounds
cling to the air
the notes sticking in her hair and
across her collarbone,
her arms, fingers tap to
the rhythm and tone,
her charms meet me at
the chorus of the song,
wrapping its long
melody around and into my ears,
my heart beats in harmony –
between each beat comes the rest,
which breathes a little hope,
softly singing into my chest

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: cling

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