Concerto B Major: The Encore

This
Is
The Encore
The part of the performance you’ve begged for
Longed for the main even to be over
Just to get a taste of
This after affair
Sound check in reverse
No one asks the audience how the orchestra's supposed to sound
I just know you want me around
Just to remind you of...
All the timbre you've let slip away
Since the last time I graced the stage
You’ve forgotten the way your
Fingers pop
To unsung melodies
The way your spine curves
When the rhythm caresses that spot
To the left
Down a notch…
Right there…
Forgotten the way
Pianissimo tasted
Rolling of the tip of your tongue
In the opening
Of your favorite love song
But this is not your favorite love song
This is nothing special
Yet everything you’ve ever hoped for
Because you’ve never imagined the best music
Being that of which isn’t scripted
But we are here…
We are the musicians…
We are the lovers
We are the makers
The movers
The shakers
We let the music use us as
Its form of medium
To bring itself to life in front of you
And all we ask…
All we ask…
Is that you open yourself up
To be fully pleased
Let me make love to you in your daydreams…
Let me kiss your eyelashes individually
And leave you with fairytale coated seams on the lining of your memories
Simply from the tempo
Of my congas
On the downbeat
Let that trombone slide all up in your
Gut…
Lower rib section rearrangement
While the bow for my fiddle
Tickles you into the very position
You never thought you’d ever compromise your orgasm to be found in…
This is what I do…
With the flick of my wrist and a baton
This is what you love
Imagine if I used simply my hands and my tongue
This is what you’ve paid all of your attention to me for
The very moment
After the goose bumps rise
Right when the hair begins to prickle against your own flesh
Down to the second when you find yourself
Fantasizing what it’d be like if I conducted this
Right
In between
Your thighs…
And so I play on…
Until yet again…
You’ve had your fill
And I have satisfied your craving
For
An encore.