I saunter carelessly along
Foolishly grasping breath
Ignoring grins that seem too long
Madly in love with the music above
But too, not now, it’s you
A grip; sweaty. clammy
Clearly heated but determined
There shall not be a rousing interest
Shake the leather-ed look
Grasping grains and falling straws
Do all but hold up
Falling linens
Once were draped
In epic goodness
Now below as epic rawness