Huh! What a lovely seething undertone.
Run. Dub-tub, dub-tub my natural pose.
Flitting graffiti sky floats over old crime.
Blow out rhythmic clouds in pewter air.
Sweat surges up spinal, muscles amplify.
Projected veins throb under juicy skin.
Red injects my blues, purples my fro.
Pours guttural into my aubergine throat.
In the long run, I sync into my deep curve swing.
I sing.
