Like your heart pumps with no other blood
Then that of a wild beast,
Caged.

Tearing in your very soul,  
Red fury,  
Splat!
On the walls and tables and chairs.

Move them out of your quickening feet's path.
They need it to
Dance!

Finally a soothing melodie,
And a gentle flutter at your creation
Perhaps on video?

Make nothing touch this moment.
This precious, precious sweat.

^^^^There are two meanings to this poem. :D

I'm proud of myself :P

Post edited at 2:09 pm on May 6, 2008 by Sirthing

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Music in my head makes me dance

Dance =

-------
Orgasm.