Strong hands grip

the intensity of the perfection

 of your body

Making the world slip

far and away from the ordinary

Past the extraordinary

to a place of imagination

where the sound of drums

are the only audible sounds

aside from the muffled

cries

slap of flesh

skweek of frames

break of  sweats

the constant  rimshot

the sensuous riiiide of the cymbals

tis, tis, tis-tis, tisssss

and a boom

clack

boom

clack

is that alright

can we go

can i play for you