The Living Things
There’s music in your body
Trapped, without instrument
Like a trombone begging to be played
Your mouth is putting me on
Like a flower,
That fits with petals of silver hung
Dimples peach to lavender
Your taught skin of crescent
Thrush with the power nature made in you
Lush like there is no tomorrow
Only youth, only today
I can’t be the power of her beauty
She’s by herself, trapped
A lure, a kite, a sound travelling
A body of moonesque dampness
Biology trapped in a poetic setting
With sentiment, of all of evolution
There’s music in your body
Flute, your breast heave another sigh
As if your entire heart
Is waiting to be reached
So beating hearts can lead to new beginnings.
Got a nice ring to it, congrats
Thanks shadow, my erotic work gets less likes and I lose twitter followers over them, but they still remain some of my favorite type of poems to pen.