There are times like these
When there is a sudden downcast of rain
When the apartment is filled with sunlight and quiet
When I am alone and listening to the silence between everyday noise
that I miss being with you.
At the theater, I sat next to a woman,
That smelled like your skin,
That sort of dusty, musky, primal scent
Right after the thickest of heat,
Under the sheets
She reeked of it.
And there I was
Torn to the marrow
As the dancers leap and twirl
Thrash their bodies about
To the strains of Nina Simone
As I close my eyes,
I can only see your fingers, but even that is enough
*Jazz baby piano baby silhouette slender dark on the red curtain baby sax baby speaking of a dream falling further and further the room is hot and stuffy and smells like musk like dust and like him like his body jazz baby like the hollow of his chest jazz baby like the space behind his ears jazz baby long gone back home is my home jazz baby no more but forever will you be with me crave him because he is the first and only jazz baby you will ever have
don’t forget he left you because there was no touch
no feel
just a rush
into a push
into a ******
a shove
The back beat accent of his love*