Percussion

your heart is a timpani

that plays it’s own tune for me

and it can be erratic

but the sound is love to me

your eyes are a distant galaxy

I’ve never been one for astrology

but I find myself lost in your constellations 

your skin is my forbidden fruit

and I cannot deny myself the guiltiest of pleasure

pressing my lips until they run dry

i’m lost in your body

discovering

I think I’ll call it home