music man
March 28, 2011
I want the man,
not just his music.
Can’t settle for his beats,
need the hands
that make them.
Love not only lyrics
that drain his rage,
replenish light,
but the lips
giving them life.
Taste the mind
that burns
for beauty;
flesh built
to excite and please
me. Breath, eyes,
knees, feet.
Drum, lute,
turntables and fluted
horns, piano keys,
words whose rhyme pace
time, show blood-
flow within; dark vessels
carry color, rhythm,
song, vision.
Lust for not
just the sounds,
but the cells from which
they spring.
© 2011 Tahminah Zaman
