by

Robert H. Dirr Jr.

You are a twinkling star amid thousands of bygone trampled dreams while I
Sprint past myself to thaw out within the concentrated warmth of your light.
My adagio of heartstrings has been restored to a polished melody that swells
As if the impassioned and undisturbed sounds of a cosmic lover's concerto
Has entrenched and connected itself to the cryptic fabrication of my being.

Clarity comes with stillness but emotions rise from interpretations of simple
Quarter notes and half notes and sweeping harps that become more intense
When mixed with the scents of our efforts to vent the frustrations that build
Up in bodies craving the mystical and gratifying obsession we call an orgasm.
But during my rebirth I have found that not all releases are entirely physical.

We make love to the music of Kitaro or the sticky and stimulating lyrics of
Cohen or even the crashing harmony of two bodies that bump and grind in
A horizontal dance under the candlelit darkness that plays across the planes
Of sweating souls, lost temporarily within each other. There is no need for
Talk or whispers or promises of love, for music is the universal language.

� Copyright 2002, All Rights Reserved