my tongue once tense relaxes
prodding a voice grown resonant
when seeking to impress you
standing there hiding
from my nuance from those hints
of what might be for you and me
a new way of singing
reveal yourself your will your
firm resolve not tempted beyond
but pulled from within
go ahead and hide yourself
those firm breasts those
long legs those changeable
strange eyes
those deeply thought sighs
save it, turn away, i do not
care any more my wooden voice
speaks perfect platitudes of logic
aloof alone independent calm
even though
if your no became oh...yes
we could discover
what our tongues do best.
-- douglas brent smith
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