Movement- Hozier

Ice cubes swimming in the smokey vanilla rye that burns, burns, burns, all the way down. Hips dip and sway with the claps, missing the rough edges of your grip. Would your breath stir the wisps that lay against my skin as your hips cradle mine? Hum along to the dreams we once shared while the waves of lust and longing swept us down the path of insanity, far far away from the realities that time would drag us back to and shove down our throats. Would that this sweet liquid courage erase the belonging you laid upon my soul and drown out the echos of promises never kept and we move, one last time.