I’m Working On A Deliberate Sound

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I’m working on a deliberate sound
Tracking a feeling I’ve never found

Filtering & distilling a final abstract
Like passion was some sort of artifact

They’re still searching for their good luck
Let us dance holes in our old school Chucks

No need to worry about their errant thoughts
Let me strip naked – for I’m kinda hot

With the beat down to your toes
Secrets of my soul, I’ll cautiously expose

The Sultan Of Suntan

The sultan of suntan
Smelling like oils & lotions
Sand clinging to your soul
Cleansed by the water’s motion

Purged of evaporating dreams
We can focus on existence
Wringing it all out
At love’s steadfast insistence

All secrets illuminated
Nothing remains within
Cover of cheap shades
Truth permeates the skin

A Finger To My Lips

Photo by Nataliya Vaitkevich on Pexels.com

A finger to my lips
Fixated on your secrets encased
Knowing the enchanting stories
You’re upon what fairytales are based

Remaining silent with restraint
For that is your required desire
Locked into your heavenly eyes
Nothing greater than stoking your primal fire