A Bass Line

July 9, 2011
Your lips parted across the room
Soft and full, the dancers swoon.
My hands are unruly padlocks
And you find my secret spirit
Through a bass line and bow tie.

The laughter is our own melody
And we fly until your wings ache
And you find comfort in the
While my inky eyes mark the sideline.

We're all torn apart and
I remain, to touch the pieces
Until hushed voices quake
And I, too, am ridden;
Bare feet on wet pavement.

Silky threats, swollen questions
Crush me where the night ends.
Sweet breath of the morning,
Careful kiss of this feeling,
Carry me home.

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