Urgently,
I rush to the small cafe down the road,
I waited for your show for about a week,
now your finally here.
I pay my entrance fee and grab a front row seat.
It’s starting, Curtains open.
The light dim and every ones quite.
On the edge.

You step up to the microphone.
I hear music slowing began to play,
I feel a breeze as you began to speak.

Your voice’s, mentally kissing my neck,
As word play began to transform  the crowd.
Transforms me.
I imagine the stage, like a field of flowers,
A bed in it’s center.
Verse after Verse, You speak of,
Your ****** Epistemology.
But I want you to be my very own lyricist

Be my proprietor and fully take ownership over me.
Every word, every  phrase & verse, I hang on,listening.
Clinging to your Rhythmic Melodie.
Strum me Metaphorically,Embrace my mind.
Love me poetically. "Undress my soul".

I almost expired when these words were said, as you
experimentally held out your hand & repeated the words.
like a chant, like your beckoning for me to come to you.
I feel I’m in a monopolistic competition.
Fighting the crown for your attention.

For your affection.
Continually You speak,
Word’s played over& over .

Done and redone to the beat and base of your baritone,
While you some time whisper in that **** tenor voice of yours.
I’m lost, Gone!
Refilled with a driving need to be where you are...,
ON STAGE!  
A.M.A.
Copyright © Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977-2008
All right reserved