The music in me is same as the music in you
same as the sound I hear in silence,
same purport as the healing violin strikes,
the same intercourse as our curled lives,
it is the same skin.
So when I am drowning with your beads
around my chord in the sea of fertility,
enter in my mouth graciously-
like there has never been any computation,
any complication in our creation
of these stars and earths;
as if we submerge in waters and the ice submerge
in us, plain and sculptured;
like my naval bearing your prints
yield snowflakes, murmuring
the words which left our skin a million years back.
The chapter of music between bodies
will never be rogue,
as they share skins and water
over many courses of time,
it shall reproduce itself,
out of us.
Posted for Magpie tales