This music is a proclamation-
it will steal you, drip it's sweet nectar
of familiarity into your ears,
wrap you tightly into it's finely-woven blanket of experience
You will know this music,
feel this music with your eyes,
see the beat with your ears.
Intuitive senses used for a rhythmic counseling.
I don't need some counselor,
on a 1991 Ethan Allen chair,
behind wire-rimmed glasses
to tell me I'm some adolescent hormone faux-pas-
to tell me I'm not who I should be.
I will use this music
use these words,
Let it take me,
let it wrap itself around me
still warm with the thought of a-second-ago.
I will let this music take me, a proclamation, let it entwine itself
around my body,
along my abdomen,
through my legs,
around my fingertips-
let the music rape me.