Gentleman

I moved my spine into place.

I painted my lips with my own blood.

My perfume tightens my throat, yet I still wear it so you can see me.

Hear me

Look at me.

I yearn for your attention.

So I bruised my feet to I could open your gaits.

Trickle Trickle Trickle

The sounds of one accord

A heartbeat

A rhythm

A songstress dressed in lace, swaying to the straining of their eyes.

Peering through the cloth and grasp at mournful sighs

His heartbeat

A rhythm