Over the top
In velvet liquid
action
of figures
aqualine
alien smooth in flight
overground
smile of mine tonight
growing thick
growing ripe
danger! Danger!
Luscious silk in chaos
Rhythm collision
Not living in time
It’s broken away
Hey! Hey!
I’m burned to the ground
Burned to the ground
So much finer
Moving through the garden
I come in piles
I’m coming in piles
Of spilled skull sex ink
Savage chrysalis
Voodoo queen
You are fed
You are fed
Healing from my open fist
You’re rhythm is like a narcotic
You shock
The leather priest
I am just seduction in the mood for you…
Rhythm collision
As the name implies
Is a structure comprised
of bodies
bent
the cirque unfolds
open now
I will have you
To use you’re hunger
close pressed
against my own
compulsive, indiscreet
administration of random hold
on the accidental, incidental
it’s potential for chance operation
is much greater
for the coiled ones involved
although the simpliest plans
present very few problems
the reletive discharge
can undergo extremely convoluted developments
under the innocent gaze
of anonymous plans
The flight is the same
pain & pleasure
The combination of ideals
Which are joined
gives the structure
great versatility
consumption,
can be forged
into it’s respective shape
as long as there is a common
intersection, line or seam
along which the travelers
align closely, carefully exit
and meet.
The form potential
Of the Rhythm Collision
Gives us great latitude
For making diversities
Instinctual, more primal
As they hover above
Float below
The cervix
But as the bodies heat up
Still in a relatively flexible state
Achievement is made
In the valley of dolls…
Over the top
out on a rail
boneshaker
she starts fires all night long
in check
out
in
out
check out
rotate… release me
please
rotate…release me
up on a ledge
we’re over the edge…
while under my grin
hairs prick
the mind devises
reason for certain
unknown treasure
unheard before
I shudder thin lines
Inside you’re eyes
and smile
for
The Maha still
lying still flush
burning & bright
lying still
nocturnal & ligthe
naked on shafts
that hurl up
smoking legs
behind the lines
in bloodrose beds
rip
cool, spread
woman & man
ever singing milk
of quintessence
beauty on edge
we now engage
our safe kept art
each portrays the other’s
penetration
connection
bright livid thrust of sunlight
speeding stare
of feral slithers
spurring then
boots & spurs of Pan
Breath of Panic
Father of Skin
Whose dancing, soul heated
Children
laughing children
cleaving red
this call turns the world
over & over
over & over
Rhythm Collision
Over & over
Rhyrhm Collision
I am just seduction
In the mood for you
I Am just SEdUctIOn
In thE MOoD fOr YoU
I aM JUST seDuction
IN tHE mooD For YOU
I AM JUST SEDUCTION
IN THE MOOD FOR YOU

© Bri Whitney 2005