I unwrap your body to be an intertwined piano screech
Howling and Pulsing, drenched in finger play
the orchestra dances around a throbbing wirey rubber-neck
This tired song paints a forest.

Gasping leaves, time signatures squeeze
in a small scene, bellows the musical Queen

Limb like notes, count tabs on the measurement
my train wreck of thoughts, get caught in your echobox
the cadence of revolution, bibles against your mahogony
but I'm not at ease with this whole host of hauntings.

the brass band beckons to break your bones
and all your symphony daughters want to fuck me
So grasp me in chords and wrap me in vines
kiss this mellisma, fill my body suit with audible audacity

Conducting the sonnet, so simply as put
with branching bashes of brazen bruises against the air
so link like your chains are, wrattling within thin space
strung up like wire hangers, and begging for a dirty face

The Black Audience stands in recognition
they spurt out love hymns and liquid appreciation
Clap your hands baby, It's not ot late to pray
Clap your hands sister, she's just begun to play