Tom:
I drowned
in drum sounds
neon and smoke
in my brown eyes, it pounds,
like the beating of my heart, pokes
the guitar's riffs, the bass hums, forever spoke--
droning dives in and out--static--out and in; palm
catches the rhythm, the chords never shook.
It is hard to contain, my bloke,
love knows and shows no bounds--
lullabies took,
concerts wound;
smoke crowned--
psalm.
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