deepundergroundpoetry.com
L’imagination au pouvoir
Your imagination
Does a dance
Swaying
Moving to the beat
Breathing heavily in the spotlight
She remains on the dance floor
Your heart
Bump
Bump
Bump
And you can’t do anything about it
Your subconscious is fucking her
Is sticking your fingers in places
You’ve never imagined
She doesn’t even know you
No words have left your mouth
No eyes have met on the battlefield
But you’re brain is flirting with the crease in her back
And draining the stress from her mouth
Your brain is smoking cigarettes
But you haven’t left the dance floor
Your imagination is sleeping
But you haven’t had your first drink
Does a dance
Swaying
Moving to the beat
Breathing heavily in the spotlight
She remains on the dance floor
Your heart
Bump
Bump
Bump
And you can’t do anything about it
Your subconscious is fucking her
Is sticking your fingers in places
You’ve never imagined
She doesn’t even know you
No words have left your mouth
No eyes have met on the battlefield
But you’re brain is flirting with the crease in her back
And draining the stress from her mouth
Your brain is smoking cigarettes
But you haven’t left the dance floor
Your imagination is sleeping
But you haven’t had your first drink
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