My dearest love,
If I were to explain the music in my ears,
It’d be an algorithm of lovely ardor,
Fervent beats and emotional rhythms,
Pursue a possibly tangible idea,
Shining lights and keyboards,
Coffee colored electric energy,
Pulsing in amber jelly motion,
A metaphorical knife is ****** into the solar plexus,
Stimulating the tear sacs,
Which then open and shed a bassline,
Which repeats in nonexistent space,
Maybe…
Just maybe…
It stretches into eternity.