I Am My Lover's Instrument
String my wires, tune me up.
Feel my curve under your arm.
I can play any way you want.
But you have to want it bad enough to let go, to let it flow,
through you, through me,
to that place where words run dry,
and the music, the resonance of heart and soul, drums out the groove,
that individual beat that all sway to.
So play me baby.
Let me feel it.
That sweet rift, that soulful rhythm.
Can this be real? Our infusion?
Can you match my energy?
All plugged in and ammped up,
distortion echoing in your guts,
fingers hammering up and down my spine,
chords filling those empty places with soul.
Are you extraordinary enough to tune this body and match our rhythms?
Can you find the groove that infuses?
Copyright © Bricelyn Stermer | Year Posted 2005
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