no strings
but and yet somehow,
I cling
to your notes
wrote and awake
to melody
of your every morning,
tours accordingly
for the sake of getting away
into an open space
where your a cappella
joins chorus with me
an open mic,
proceeds
and we bleed
sheet music that reads
oooooh’s, and a la carte
highlighted by sparks
the music you are for me,
culminating
into dark
chocolate covered
symphony
I’ll bring the bar
you set the energy
tantric is what the tone will be,
up and down,
around the beats
how loud can your silence speak?
grunts and moans,
in harmony
orchestrated by the need
and sweet sound of melody
Hip-Hop infused in sync
with jazz
and a classical speech
a reggaeton tempo
breaking into
an instrumental music
that is swallowed
by the keys
your drum begs for me
to beat
forcing your horn,
to scream
producing the soundtrack
we need
to listen to
as we are away in reality
but together, in a dream
fiend-ing for the sound
or at least the taste
of what it feels like
to be entertained
by the streets
and fed
by the sweets
your arms are headphones
your legs, like chords
wrapped all around me
the mic, tested
waiting for you to sing
a low register that requires
every thing you’ve got,
I’ll just watch you be,
amazing
I might just hit the high notes,
my hands can hardly reach
as I conduct your performance
back-and-forth
to swing
at the same time,
I’ll play my favorite instrument
you be the percussion
I’ll strum your organ
with the one
between my teeth

and we will be
the song that always sings
the one that reminds of pleasure
the one that goes unseen
the one you always hum
the one you always need,
playing to one another,
the music you are for me.

-see

©2015 Cornelious “See” Flowers
@seethepoet