Corinne

If only she could be my girlfriend... hehe.

the ecstasy of light pours unannounced between the heart beat,

the skin is bathed with a tingling sensation, suddenly there is feel.

a crowd of three: the mic, the heat, and her own palms.

the clinging cotton embrace the body like an echo to the wind

falling just right above the knees.

she starts

she dare not open her eyes to interrupt

each continuous hum the heart conceives.

cradling of the beat.

belly full of heat, feeling strings.

finger tips bleeding

singing beauty.

of painful loss and love.

the sea on lids shut tight.

the breeze on palms clutching.

inside closed eyelids notes gracefully escapes.

love loss and such reverberating.

 

she opens.

slightly to take a peek

crowd of three, now, three hundred

drops of sweat surface the skin and there

there, in between the heat and the calm

a precipitation of a moment of performance

briefly she motions a smile to please the crowd’s cool

as she anticipates for notes to hit the tongue

and there there, you see?

 

she’s done it. the vibrations and motions

it’s not just her body that betrayed her true

genius

it’s in her timed staccato

the uniqueness of her bass

her unsurprising ability to turn words to

mean more than it could ever be

 

it surfaces

there, there you see?

 

lips smacking for the taste

lips intruding un-hastily

stirring, circling the words before letting the crowd

consume what could

Author's Note

This was written three years back.