Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Phone Call

Go out of your mind
into the beat of my drum; grind.
Serenade me with your bird song
Rhythmic electric echoes and bass riffs; strong.

You shed my skin and it burns with a fiery passion
My locks and your chatter
You are my space of fascination, body of entertainment
The breathy, pleasurable..silent dance.

Your secrets; sublime
and it's really a crying shame; a crime
I'm taken by your seductive word of slander
your voice thick and heavy
why it broke, I wonder.

In the presence of lust, swallowing his breath; I was merely a pair in the crowd.



(And, for all we know, Anonymous was a woman.)

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