Pulse


I hear the drumming of your heart,
Steady as a beating cymbal,
Pulsating within your hollowed frame.

Do my ears deceive me,
Do my fingers placate me,
Or is the beat getting faster?

For fear that I might be mistaken,
I place my thimble fingers below your bosom,
What I feel is the steady flow of rivers meeting.

I look into your eyes and watch them smile,
I feel the beat make them dance,
I am not a stranger in this beating land.

The warmth beneath my hands fill my heart,
And I begin to move to your beating heart,
I have being arrested my its melodious sound.

I did trade the wind, the air and the sea,
I did reach the heavens to bring the halos in,
Just so I can feel that beating pulse within.

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