in a congregational church
making love to drum music
no one can have anyone's time
and if you can't value what
you have, then you have nothing
all the rhythms have
a different emotion
all my emotions rap against
the tightness of flesh over
a wooden frame
and my thump is so fragile
as is everyone else's
sometimes what never was
or never will be
is not as exciting as
what is imagined
and the beat
of the drum