Black man beating on drums,
the red on her hair like fire in my arms.
The wild child that I have been seeking has
finally crossed the tracks to see where I humble.
I'll whisper sweetness to her,
and my heart will pour out,
my body and mouth no longer it's lid.
Speak to me you golden muse,
send the messenger to read my reviews.
Her body swayed against mine,
each new step to dance
a leap for my heart.
Hair drags on my shoulders and
for the first time in months, I'm happy.
Outside, between the bricks and tape,
our trails leave laughs and skips,
heard as footsteps amidst the wondering crowd.
We are the rulers of the world,
and we are setting it
on fire.