Frenetic yet precise,
snare me.
Mimic the beat
of my soul’s underside
thrumming to the rhythm of spice
and Top tobacco.
Bells and screams
whistle their way through audience appeal
as hips sway circles
far removed from earth’s dirt floor.
Move me,
pull me below the rhythm of your sin.
Swirl me up in chocolate
reflected in chrome.
Your shining beats undo me
they get beneath my skin
pull me deep inside the rhythm of your sin.
Brenda Warren 2013
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