Bach’s harpsichord

The fire of desire reaches higher, aspire to reach into my throat with wanting, to open the resonant chambers within to engage the full scope of love songs. Swift poems combined with sweet melodies expressed in a flood of wicked invocations, dark patterns and starlight, and make me feel at home, missing my baby, my cries into the wild of night. Knowing the feeling chasing the dragon, playing the crowd like Bach’s harpsichord, pulling the heartstrings inciting the lusts, capturing the imaginations, twisting ideas, forcing the flow of reality to bend to my vocalized will and presence, hair flowing, shirt billowing, urges bulging astride firm stances.

Lord Malinov, Song of Songs

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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