Base Sounds

it is one of those no and yes situations
twisting and turning
the universe
into a slow-motion-action-sequence
the bullets fire in time to the humming
base sounds,
like thread, weaving
a mystical, musical pattern
from the weight of my thighs
to the tips of my breasts

i am abruptly overcome
with pulsations and palpitations
from the music, and yes,
from your touch

any love influence is,
strictly speaking,
under the influence
of potentially harmful drugs

what if i DAREd you to kiss me...

but we all know drugs wreak havoc
on your organs and nervous system
which are generally too nervous for me
and yet i am anxious without you

i am not the first to say
love (and passion and sex) intoxicates
nor the first to say
it prevents blood from reaching my brain
your scent clouds my mind and i cannot
breathe the air, i can
not prevent the firing of neurons
nor the electric, magnetic, tectonic reaction
that occurs when our flesh meets
and lingering, meets again

keep in mind, it is fact that turns me on
no romantic prose can get under my skin
the way cold hard logic
makes me wet

and yet,
leaving you is like parting the sea...