She moves like jazz; smooth and intense, passion bubbling just below the surface, confidence oozing from the hidden parts of her. It was love at first glance, through the milling bodies of a thousand Etta fans. She mingles here and there, lingering for a song or two before moving on, plastic glass in hand and wine painting her smile bright. The powerful thread of Ms. James' voice weaves a world where I am neither too young, nor she too old and I feel nothing but regret when it is over.
I don't even know her name.
Showing posts with label Jazz music concert love passion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jazz music concert love passion. Show all posts
Friday, February 5, 2010
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