Between her syllables
there are syllables,
curling up among
each literal phrase
a purring kitten
of affectionate subtext.
There are words
behind her words,
wrapping around
all naked statements
a bear skin rug
of warm possibility.
Inside her expressions
are expressions,
hypnotically accompanying
every plain avowal
a singing Siren
of irresistible charm.
Within her language
there is language,
snuggling between
any ordinary inquiry
a pretty child
of endless wonder.
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5 comments:
Some lyrics I wrote yesterday. All they need now is some music--and perhaps a chorus.
;•)
Whatever the case, RUN THE OTHER WAY!
:)
ha! this is great!
Men, women, and the fear/hatred some men have for women was a theme at the last gallery I visited in Seoul. It included the work of the tortured Munch, and the cynicism of Rop. I will try to post something later about it.
Playful and risky (language and otherwise)
I really like it.
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