JIL

All Your Words Come  Tumbling  Down Riding atop trickling synth notes twinkling like fireflies in the black-blue of early evening. Chords stretch to wrap around treetops, released by fingertips and whining upwards towards the moon. You sing me a melody soft, sending me reeling backwards into balmy air. We dance with ease and grace, swaying to rhythmic winds punctuated by percussion of rustling leaves.  ...what does it sound like to you?