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.