Let the music
echo along your inner ear;
let it travel
down the corridor of your mind.
Let the color of the sound
seep down your spine,
branch out through your limbs,
down your hands,
then shoot out
the ends of your fingertips.
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So cool. I had the best massage ever by someone trained in the USA. While his fingers dug deep I could see colors. Your poetry is reminiscent of that experience.