There is a possession happening.

Day clouds racing across the sky, why

stand alone in the woods?

Night rhythms rocking my veins, brains

succumbing to the thump.

Someone speaking with my mouth! making great jokes, babbling like a greyhound to a boy from Queens til he is undone, won

over by an odd charm.

The touch of a musician til I am gone,

lost to tactility, silly

with adoration, a nation

of children inside wanting to watch, touch, listen.

You.