Thursday, April 16, 2009

I Am The Rhythm

I am the rhythm.

I am the rhythm.

The rain has a rhythm.

The rain has a rhythm.

You know I can dance the tango.

You know I can dance the tango.

It may not be the judges' tango.

but I know how to make your fandango.

I am the rhythm.

I am the rhythm.

The rain drops a light,

a soft sweet rhythm.

Waltzing with me, feet don't touch air.

Waltzing with me, feet don't touch air.

Spinning and twirling without a care.

twining my fingers through your hair.

I am the rhythm.

I am the rhythm.

The rain taps a lively,

toe-tapping rhythm.

Together, apart, but don't let go.

Together, apart, but don't let go.

Dipping and flirting, flirting and dipping,

I don't keep your hands from slipping (below).

I am the rhythm.

I am the rhythm.

The rain pounds a grinding,

a hip-grinding rhythm.

Our pelvises gyrate in perfect time.

Our pelvises gyrate in perfect time.

Keeping our balance, eyes to eyes,

your breath so close, I can make it mine.

I am the rhythm, and you are mine.

I am the rhythm, and you are mine.

You have my rhythm now.

You have my rhythm now.

You feel my rhythm.

You feel my rhythm.

Feel my rhythm.

Feel my rhythm.

My rhythm.

My rhythm.

Mm.

Mm.

Mm.

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