After Show Aches

The cold chokes my throat igniting immunity with energy warmer than an oven of convection.
Vibrations still rattle rocked ribs, repeating rhythms, pulsing through fingertips;
I am alert with agreeable adrenaline observations.
Playing stuck songs backwards and forwards
mandala hemispheres chatter with excited interpretations.
Laying my head upon thumping shoulders
I shimmy in chilly acceleration.
Driving back to padded cage with pulsing hips
still crying out for ambulation,
I mentally marvel at composition that continues
to expose a mass to an accumulation of acculturation.
Still skipping I step into a wet jungle heat,
rinsing sweat and feeling the saturation
of sweet streaming rivulets; oxygenation
creating the perfect negative ionic sedation.
Stretching, sleepy articulations crack, pop, and snapple
as muscles create compositions out of yogi positions;
releasing restricted tensions, limbs curve in
evolutionary arches of emancipating elevation.
Excited for ethereal fantasies, equilibrium
turns exhausted orientation into disorganization.
Restful slumber permits the reclamation
of youthful rejuvenation,
as peaceful dreams dance wildly
to harmonious beats of ecstatic revelation.

Todays best new poem was written by SABRe.

 

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