His music

icy wind blows
urban noise, termed as pop music,
from the car radio into the grey freeway
when
out of nowhere
his voice,    
husky pelt from lost valleys, 
croons 
slicing cement pavements into
pools of rain and deep ravines
i fall, into his arms, 
sucking   
slice of lime, salt and tequila 
my belly caving as his words hit the 
gravel peaks of love and tragedy,
my thigh pivoting to his beat, 
i exhale slowly 
the car, greased with his music,
races through the streets   




Posted for:   D'verse Poets Pub:   Our music 
picture credit:   here

Though he is already dead, Elvis Presley is the first male artist I became very familiar with, through my mother who played all of his songs after his death.   Thanks to old movie clips and links, I remember him as a young and soulful crooner.