Watch out, boy,
the world is behind you,
holding you,
waiting for beauty to sigh
itself from your limbs.
I long to feel the
yellow music
seeping from your hands
in the pleasure
tingling along my skin,
the sound of your high-heeled
shoes as you dance to your song
bringing out the movement within.
I dream of seeing
the joy of performance
as you hold the guitar
which led you astray.
You're going somewhere, boy,
so watch out.
Pick your weapon wisely
and play it
with your heart shining
in your eyes
and your blood suspended
on your fingertips
until you hear that song
called 'applause'.