Voice
By sweetbrother
To even finely honed perceptions I am a phantom, just a cipher, a murmuring voice lost in the clamor of the street, a face as invisible as a breeze, trampled by hustling feet like a weed; even mikes and cameras don't detect me. Yet armed with pen and keyboard, my voice roars resonating through the corners of your mind dropping drenching storms on you. My moods whip across your conscienceness like bitter winter weather and though I might frighten or disgust you you will succumb to my seduction and I will leave you awakened and transformed. So, take heed to the random lost soul your eyes avoid on the streetl I am beautiful and treacherous if you dare to listen to my voice Written December 7th, 2001 © on Dec 07 2001 04:24 AM PST 0 • 10
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"To even finely honed perceptions..."