Your voice cuts right through the room with a reckless distinction. All other voices holding tongues, in love, in fragile fingers spreading wide and stretching miles and miles and miles..... Come closing in. Was it love? Was it less or more? I poured myself into every kiss and now Im out of me. Such simple sounds sing a cold lullaby which is sinking you to sleep. When my gloves drop and my knuckles glow white Ill be the first to sing We are all singing. All of us.....
mile, distinction, voice, sing, stretching