mind over body

In our most intimate moments, how do we know that our partner's thoughts are in line with their actions?  In "Therapy Sessions," battle-ready wordsmith AllOne explores the mind-numbing machinations behind the touch in his brilliant, cyclical lyrical style while Angelique Anderson's artwork adds "bare bones" examination to the exploration.  

 Angelique Anderson

Angelique Anderson

Therapy sessions

lyrics by allone

I know what you're thinking, 
That you know what I'm thinking, 
well I want you to know, 
that you know what I want. 
And I want you to think, 
that I think that I want you. 

Her young limbs are sleek, 
save for scar bumps scissors leave
I deceive, dismissing these as uninteresting
and keep on kissing, 
her tongues flitting like something slithering
the bulb's flickering, 
nearly blackout drunk binging
before jumping in the sheets
but she insisted in lusts divulged whispering
who am I to come in between her and I? 
Come satisfy her needs and size her up, 
I rush in between thighs to indulge instantly, 
it's dark, I feel the passion, incisors bites, grips, 
but can't see the point or who I'm with. 
I feel like she changes when the lights dim, 
My wits no match for hers
when that fire flicks in her iris, 
feral force of a feline, 
but her canines pinch my skin when I'm in. 
Can't help but feel slightly sick
at the implied crime's PTSD
hiding deviously like
landmines in her violence, 
incessantly sensing she's in love, 
who am I to deny it? 
It's nicer than silence, 
I admit I kinda like it. 
Burgeoned motions, simply sex with
burdened senses, synesthetic
blurry motives, sympathetic
birds and stone, sin aesthetic
burn emotions cinder ethics, 
ascetic, alarming, pathetic, cathartic, 
especially when she, in ecstasy bends and screeches
when she peaks, pleasured, forgetting depression, 
relieved of sexual tension, everything's better
and I leave alone sweaty and scented, 
with perfume chemicals and her pheromones
My head is prone to pensively messy messages
collecting cold dubious thoughts for me on an autumn eve, 
after another of these oddly successful therapy sessions. 


Well, what do you think? I need to know. 
Well, what do you know?! I want to need. 
Well, what do you think? I want to know. 
Well what do you know?! I need to think. 

Well, what do you think? I need to know. 
Well, what do you know?! I want to need. 
Well, what do you think? I want to know. 
Well what do you know?! I need to think. 

He isn't exactly the type I'd categorize as my fantasy guy, 
But examining, he looks at me like he's captured a prize, 
I flash him the bedroom eyes, spread my thighs
room is spinning, swig the whiskey, drink me blind. 
Dim the lights, he begins to try to protest, 
Muffled, as I bring his lips to mine. 
Isn't the party hardy fitness guy, 
naive, pretty nice, funny I let him in my life, 
the one part he hardly fits inside. 
Listen, I don't mind kiss and tell, 
but you tell so much we'll never kiss! 
No offense but kid, I don't need a therapist, 
You're no knight in shining armor, I'm no damsel in distress, 
lit the candles, vicious sex, 
though at times we're on a couch, no need for analyst attempts! 
Nor will I candidly confess, 
yeah you scan my skin and wince. 
are you here for bed or conversation? 
I've had better conversation. 
I bet our conversation's hollow ain't it? 
Sex is our arrangement: 
make your entrance and then enter and two exits, 
friends with benefits without the benefits of friendship
Sure the closeness I seek refuge in, 
it isn't love by why refuse it? 
I keep using the word cause
he's dependent and needs to feel he's rescuing
He "wants to help" oddly condescending, 
talking for a length and drops a lot of questions, 
before he probes me, probes me 'bout depression, 
All it takes to get him off my case, I hardly say a sentence
silence is a springboard for philosophies he's kept in
for all his intellect, lacks awareness that he's starving for attention
here to volley for affection, I bring his body to attendance, 
lost in lasciviousness, giving this miss
mustered luster lust for, mister skivvies amiss
a mask of mussed hair a mist of musk amidst a mess
bringing him in close so he can bring me closer
witching hour full moon...I'm liking that for me! 
I am beauty AND the beast (lycanthropy) 
bite scratch and screech, snarling out the tension
partly out of breath, coital carnal carnival intentions
get on the ride, I'm charging for this session. 
As the door shuts closed, I shudder from the autumn cold, 
his body scent lingers, he wore cologne, 
Therapy session over, what's he thinking as he's walking home? 


Well, what do you think? I need to know. 
Well, what do you know?! I want to need. 
Well, what do you think? I want to know. 
Well what do you know?! I need to think. 

Well, what do you think? I need to know. 
Well, what do you know?! I want to need. 
Well, what do you think? I want to know. 
Well what do you know?! I need to think. 

I know what you're thinking. 
That you know what I'm thinking, 
well I want you to know, 
that you know what I want. 
And I want you to think, 
that I think that I want you. 

I know what you're thinking. 
That you know what I'm thinking, 
well I want you to know, 
that you know what I want. 
And I want you to think, 
that I think that I want you.