There are some that are meant to be read
And some that are made to be said
Some feel it and some beat it
Some hear it and some see it
However its done a story is sung
What it means is up to the two
The poet and you
An unspeakable dialogue between the sheets
A secret whispered along two cheeks
Their seductive tongue explores your soul
Licking your bones and tickling your toes
Filling your thoughts to the brim of whole
Where it stops nobody knows
Where its from can be so damn cold
Or wait no maybe its warm on top of the throne
So close you feel the prum prum prum
Of the suns drum drum drum
Beating down
Citrus sun drops showering around
Tilt your face to the skies
And stick your tongue way out wide
To taste the abstract twirl
That never was or maybe will
Depends on how the song is sung
This story is now done
A dance between two concludes
Always too soon.
