Warm Madrigalism

Such a warm cobra constricted the air when you entered the noisy room,

And it devoured each voice

One by one.

They vanished the moment they hit its fangs.

In that deafness, I wanted you to see me first

And I could feel it happening:

Your breathing reached the small of my back from where you stood

And I could feel it condensate on my skin.

So I turned to meet your eyes with a splash of mellow thunder.

The cobra didn’t dare stay,

So it slithered away

In fear of our close vicinity.

For we were close now,

Although our skin never touched.

And then our eyes did meet,

Ejaculating piano wire so that our bodies were bound to eachother by its warm vibrations,

Forced in every way to feel every chord.

I shook, but my legs stood as firm columns.

As the world rapidly shrank into us, I had control:

I loosed my retinas before they were lost in yours,

And that piano wire caught fire.

It blazed and immobilized,

But provided a warmth that would linger for days.

A warmth that would linger for days in its aftermath.