GLENN MILLER: "Moonlight Serenade"

Her words were crisp, sweet like melon, and he sipped from her lips with thirsty gulps as if he had been roaming vast deserts for long days and cold nights. He craved for some intellectual arousal and indulged in the soothing wisdom of her voice. She talked slowly and steadily, yet still too fast for him to capture it all. He was mesmerised by her look, and felt overwhelmed by her abundant presence, as if he was that shy kid again who entered the candy store not knowing what to ask for. A little flame hops from the candle to a pair of mysterious eyes. A big white moon eavesdrops on their conversation, while casting its silvery light on her beaming face. When you hear the truth, your soul recognises it to be so. He breathes toxic dreams; he’s not going anywhere.