"Slip Of The Tongue"
Laugh lines surround merrily dancing green-gray eyes. The hair; windblown with just a hint of gold. The nose; straight and narrow. The patch of hair on the chin, toughening an otherwise "innocent" appearing face. Statues carved in stone could not reach perfection such as this.
But they have been here before. They know there is more to this man than physical beauty. They know that inside him hides a power that is impossible to contain. And that is why tonight, he will allow its escape.
The kick of the drum, the snap of the snare, the crash of the cymbal and yes,
even the jingle of sleigh bells flow from his throat, teeth, tongue and lips as effortlessly as we draw breath.
He is the "Beat Master", driving the rhythm with an almost supernatural knowledge; knowledge that he alone possesses. For what he knows cannot be taught, merely emulated...poorly. Many have tried. Many have failed.
And soon, the final beat echoing in the ears of all who follow him...They see the lips, plump from the exertion of VP'ing, slightly damp, perfectly formed...soft, yet strong. The corners trying in vain not to turn up into a mischievous grin.
But they all know it's coming. He WILL smile.
And our hearts will be lost forever.