JoelJosol Posted April 21, 2009 Share Posted April 21, 2009 His fingers never forget the chords he played on the guitar, nor the tunes he hummed with it. He remembers the night he played them after she walked away. The strings vibrate fine, the lyrics are about ex-lovers, but the singing comes out like a moan. He loves his guitar and the slow notes he plucks, his fingers sliding along its frets, as if recalling the texture of her skin. Quote "Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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