Give me a rhythm
miss lovely,
to sing you along
into pleasure fires that
glow and burn in
the bottom of the belly,
tease out moans
new spontaneous,
combustive,
harmonies,
bursting forth
from long ago
dusty lungs.
Get me a beat
mister,
a bass line that
thumps my spine
back and forth
just right,
and the drums
that pound my
sweet head
into space.
I was death’s
time keeper,
sitting in the eye
of the hurricane,
breathing,
deep,
and slow,
to keep the calm.
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