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he (the music)
<3el
He is the music
A song that I sang twenty years ago
When my mind was was undeveloped
And my world compressed into Barbie and Ken dolls,
Atari video games, and Cabbage patch kids.
I fashioned him, flesh and bone,
From the beat of my heart to the rhythm of my soul
He sang to me
He was a lyric, a note
A hook, chorus, verse
Reaching out through the needle of my father's old 45
Scratching the groove of wounded knees, broken skin,
And a young impressionable heart that had so much left to learn.
I cradled him against my stomach
Thrived from the heat of his song
And grew into my teenage years living in fantasies
In which he was the soundtrack and I was the player,
The medium through which he existed.
He is the music
A stunning acapella that I sang in my sleep
He flowed through me
Like steady water over the course of a million years
He carved into me
He held me
Through nights laying on my bedroom floor
Curled up in a twisted fetal position
Praying for release, praying for gain
Praying for something organic to alleviate the pain
And his tongue licked my wounds with words undeniable
Like a shaman he called forth spirits from the past with a sweet somber elegy,
Brought my lonely jagged soul to life with the power of a melody
He is the music
How quickly he changes form from a low soulful croon
Sang into the head of a microphone
To the pounding sound of a million Taiko drummers
Heart racin, sweat pourin so intense I can't ignore him
He is my blood
He is my Harmony
He is 16 straight bars of sexy baritone
Creating movement in the streets and a revolution lead by beats, rhymes, and life
He is my bullhorn.
Late at night he comes to me, a smooth operator, my midnight conductor
Causing the sun, stars, moon and sky to sway on his command
By the flick of his hand
He creates symphony
Pushing my thighs apart, he rapes the vocals from my throat
Urging me, begging me, demanding of me to release the falsetto
That I stifle, keep hidden, keep trapped in a cage
He rattles me.
He is the music
An absolution from the pulpit, a direct from God gospel
Tambourines banging on my palm
He saved me with his cadence of faith
And like any good martyr I allowed his requiem
To echo off of my existence so that he could be heard
By all those who knew me.
He is the music.
He is what moves me.
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