What good is the music if we’re not making love to it?
The lyrics don’t sound the same if our bodies aren’t singing along.
I’ve been wanting to talk to you,
but this time no words are necessary.
Why don’t you come closer so you can hear?
My eyes are dying to show their adoration.
My lips cannot wait to commune with yours.
My hands are willing to roam in all of the places they haven’t touched in far too long.
You can turn the music on now;
it’s time to let it play.
Have your way inside of me as the rhythm coincides with the movement of our limbs.
I haven’t said a thing yet,
but you hear me loud and clear.
These songs will never serve as remedies,
if the melody is missing me.
Poet: Stefanie Parrott