Soul Rhythm

Sometimes I walk the streets,

or I go up into the online space,

scrolling with my finger,

but I can’t find anything useful for myself.

Oh of course not,

’cause your little stories sometimes freak me out…

xd… lol… wtf…

yeh bby.

A mirror to your faces,

soul drama to me — self-expression.

My mind is speeding up — ijjaa,

I’d already travel the universe.

Desires were still longing in souls,

but by now I’ve had enough,

’cause either the mind

or the heart signals.

Hey… what are you begging for… ahh… iiiii,

yeh yeh.

Spiritual begging or the ego — ijja, bro,

madness inside my head,

but I know what I crave:

a hug,

the gaze of eyes,

your real existence.

Not stories dressed up

in disguised,

pulp-like,

cheap narratives…

print.

Kiss me,

and I’ll purr my soul to you.

Da da da,

my little melody,

aha… ahhha.

Hey bby — you tell me too:

feed me, hold me,

I’ll just keep purring for you.

Hey bby,

but don’t leave the kitchen out,

’cause you know — I’m not into VIP types.

To me, a sexy body is not living food,

I thirst for the light of the soul.

Yeah yeah,

and you know sometimes I light up a joint,

for a little good…

Leave me be then,

’cause I become one with the art…

yeh… yehhh,

with the art of the soul.