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Keara Marie Jan 3
You are an artist, my love.
Your mouth is a musician’s mouth, your lips my tool. My body is the instrument you play, drawing forth the music that is our passion. My cries are the melody, your groans are the lyrics. Our bodies come together and beat to the rhythm of our song. Your breath hushes me, my moans do not obey. My hair whispers on your skin in silken sigh. While your clever fingers wring from my gasp. Our voices mingle in perfect harmony. As together, we sing the wordless song of our instrumental love.
Cecil Miller Jul 2022
All the seconds that we've wasted
Looking at each other's faces,
Then one day we said, "Hello."
Never close the curtain on this show.

We made friends, then we made love.
We made war, you were above.
You said you were letting go.
You closed the curtain on this show.

The glistening in your corner eye
Becomes a tear that you cry.
I ask you why you have to go.
You close the curtain on this show.

Wall-to-wall the city beats
With hearts and footfalls on the streets.
I'm alone now, they all know.
You've closed the curtain on this show.

Like veins in arms, the avenues
Are winding anywhere, but you.
I wander with no place to go.
You've closed the curtain on this show.

Maybe someday I'll be seen,
Floating stillness in the stream.
Tangled in a bed of stone,
Having closed the curtain on this show.
This isn't about me
Tired but awake,
Oh Ginsberg and Kerouac -
I am beat
I S A A C Dec 2021
making beats, making art
losing you was just the start
to my rise, oh I thank divine
I would've kept these feelings inside a year ago
now you will hear my words on the radio
I do not care anymore, the rain cannot ruin me like before
it nourishes me and my creations, empress with no limitations
I am so happy to be me, so happy to be free
no longer tending to the broken birds
rather focusing on my own concerns
LC Oct 2021
every time I close my eyes,
my life beats behind my eyelids
like the wings of a butterfly
as questions form the rhythm
of a song that constantly plays.
undermyfeet Jun 2020
I clutched at my knees
the beats before her voice
ramming into me repeatedly

The noises in my mind
Too bright, too abrupt
an incoherent strum of notes

I never should have
given you anything
memories dangling in your fist
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