Sharing the Soul

In explicit forms of language the body moves its form.

Nothing can take this intricate dance with another move to storm.

The storm is the rain I ride while brushing it so delicately from delicate form.

He watches me and warms me.

Music lets out my soul.

I know we share dancing.

I know upon my wet body his mind is prancing.

It is this bond we share that unleashes something whole like the soul.

With what more can I share without having to pay a toll.

This sharing will let our form to shake, splatter, and rock n roll.


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