You own ear pods, don’t you?
Sitama nkutebeze. *Sit down I tell you.
Whatever song is playing,
Long as there’s the beat in your soul.
Music so dulcet that you lick your lips,
Shake your head.
Tap on the floor,
Stamp your feet.
Leaves you with goose bumps on the brain,
Two ear worms on your brain all day.
Takes you all the way, you don’t stay.
Twitches down your spine,
Desire coiling in the lower abdomen.
You swear, confess, think, about;
What was and what would have been.
It’s on repeat, one hour, two, eternity.
You don’t realise.
Oh Good Music.
Sweet Lord Music.
It’s not on Shazam, you don’t know it’s title.
You feel bad, you lose hope. Might never find it.
It’s playing in a stranger’s house.
You follow the beat, knock on the door and sigh.
It’s on your playlist now,
You make yet another friend.
It plays, and boom Eureka moments.
You think the impossible, plan the inevitable.
It’s not weed, it’s not a capsule.
Just a drug.
Catch yourself grinning.
It’s the Music.
Bored, jaded and confused?
You play the Music.
When the heart is hurting.
You drown in the Music.
That long flight, or fright,
Call on Music.
Piano, Guitar lessons. Notes and Strings
For the Music.
First kisses, pinned on the fallboard.
Ass on the Keyboard. Music.
First dance, Pas de deux.
Danseur,Ballerina chemistry on that harlequin floor.
Under the shower head, in the mirror.
The only thing that makes us feel alive.
As we make memories.
Slide to unlock?
It’s in the Music.