Now &; Then

I do not like the song you play for me.
It is
Spitting in my face as you
Lick inside my ear. You are
Flowing into my every orifice, and I
Cannot control this, as you float
On the air
In your song.
You flutter in my bloodstream,
Settle in a snug corner of my ear.
You repeat in my head, a
Cracked, stuck,
Record. Etched on
My groove.
Your chorus -
"Beth! BethBethBethBeth!
Bethannnnny&;#8230;"
A cacophony of
Nettle stings and
Nasty insect bites.
Bum notes (you would have giggled,
I said bum)
And feedback
Snapping guitar strings -
In the first verse -
And a high-pitched,
Tuneless,
Feral wail
Your song hurts
As it pricks my skin

* * * * *
Standing on a wall of
White static noise
(Closing our eyes against the
Brightness to look down, and
Holding hands). Us. We are
In time, 2 to 4,
Small to big,
But in step.
You sing to me.
Your mouth is closed though,
Reserved (singing and vodka only).
Pitter patter -
Droplets of love buzz
Soar between us, and we
Jump for this tune.
A best day
Of CDs, foam and paintings
Had a soundtrack that sounded like yellow.
A fragmented melodious murmur
The only sound I heard last night,
As I fit my whole face exactly
Into your hands and watched
You in the silence.
I wanted to dance to you then.