Warm Bodies

Something lyrical and structured for a change.

Coin exchange, slip out to drink. 
Small talk in these crowds, 
the public eye bound with light. 
Two hands held in fair sight. 
Fate makes three and shrouds 
the full extent of the link. 

Young bodies, old highs. 
Dead sighs, dead eyes 
rotate in the pulsating lights. 

These girls and boys 
share each others breath, 
each others love. 
Their hearts stop short of bursting, 
community sweat, a shared death. 
Le petit morte, their body's hurting. 

Young bodies, new thighs. 
Fake sighs, fish eyes 
rotate in the nerve's delights. 

Share these warm bodies 
in cold spaces, there's no roof here. 
Let the old loves come again. 
And the new ones cry and tear 
for the swing, the miss step. 
"Never again" we said. 
But we did it all again. 
Shuffle and rearrange. 

Take hand, 
let fingers speak affection 
and feet fold in discretion. 
Warm bodies composed of sand, 
ever shifting and interlocking. 
Tied tongues continue talking. 
And all they are hearing is: 
"Hold me."