You beautiful, beautiful woman.

You beautiful, beautiful woman.
Just like you, your exquisite tragedy
Is impeccable - It belongs in a painting.

And I, I want to be the stranger that
You'll eventually break down with.
I want to be the one to witness your undoing
And watch in awe - as every bit of you
Lies naked in front of me.

I want to be the one that takes you
Apart. Piece by beautiful piece.

Full Of Grace

 Full of Grace. Hail, not hell. All burn, no ash. Her mirrors are smoke free. She's the cross to bury the past. For Her, one must fast, and not move fast. It's the crease in Her smile that makes the chase for miles all worthwhile. It's subtle, wide and mistaken for not polite even. All teeth showing She means it honestly. Pep in Her 9's, She lends a few, too kind, when the clouds shade bright the color of night, erasing any thoughts of exhausting 9 lives. Daddies Son, but not Daddies Son, plan's to stick around whether this thing between is lost or found. When the sun shines blind, She can still show you the light. When the wind decides mute, and blows all silent you can still feel the cool in Her breeze. The grip in Her fingers never leave lonely palms lonely. She's dreamy, but non fiction amongst the fiction fixated on jaded. Her ripples, calm as still lakes. Pressure burst pipes,but Her pressure on pipes burst with Pleasure.......Full of Grace. Hail, not hell. All burn, no ash. Her mirrors are smoke free.

Departed wet

In the moonlight
the ghost got an erection.
But its shadow,
being modest,
just blurred itself

and took a cold shower.

It's 7 In The Afternoon

Yes 7 IN THE AFTERNOON

And I have forgotten

How to write in poetics 

Tongue kissed and gaping like
a siren missing from her sea.

 

I have been coughing up black for days.  

 Unable to clean the taste from my mouth,

These broken keyboard keys sewn into my fingertips scream something fierce.

They ache with longing to tell of a story

I am so damn tired of looking over railings
and wondering what it would feel like to fall.
.

Haunted

His whispered goodbyes caught fire
in the whites of her eyes as wild dogs
and empty oceans devoured him.
 

Standing still for years, 

She with a waiting heart and waiting fingers

Gave birth to ghosts with feathers.
Haunting in his sleep, swinging like

Sharp jewelery and pendulums

Carving cryptic messages upon his floor

'You, with your tattooed baptism skin
and slithering tongue of sweet poison
left her aching ashes mixed with gunpowder.'

Immortality

  She painted galaxies upon her skin.
Telling stores of years old kisses
resting deep within her marrow.
Her body, shaped with dirt and fireflies
was sutured together by birds with teeth

 A dark eyed oracle, whispering dead blood languages in her sleep.
Dancing in fields of silk sheets and disfigured fingerprints,

As she tried to forget the perverse needs

Of nothing more than mortal men.

Muse

 She corrodes star shapes into
the hearts of sleeping poets,
slowly, methodically.

Whiskey

She devoured my heart in one slow,satisfying gulp.

I heard it plunge into the gaping emptiness of her.

She drank the sun from my fingertips, licked me from her lips,

And said

"Rose petals look better dead,plucked from your November pores."

I cringed.
"They go down smoothest with Writers Tears."

Working Woman

 I want you.

Naked. Covered only by covers.

You've been a working woman all day. Tonight, be my lover.
Once, twice, three times if you can take it.
The sex that women dream about, I promise we will make it.

I want to go deeper,wider, provide you beautiful pain
One that can only be compared to giving birth.

She's Lost

She's lost.

The "Baddest Bitch" searching for a "Boss"
She'll do anything to get him, no matter the cost.

Even if it's selling,

Her soul.

To get her wrist cold,
and some Gucci tops to go with her skinny jeans.
All because they have been telling her
she was beautiful since she was knee high.
Beautiful people deserve beautiful things.

So she began to accumulate a treasure chest.
full of meaningless watched, bracelets, and rings.
She'd never speak on the drama they'd bring.
 

We've failed her.

 We didn't give her the proper tools
so the streets just screwed and nailed her.

17 and pregnant, diapers before diplomas.
She signed a birth certificate before signing mortgage papers.
She owns a life, but she's not homeowner.

Another urban soldier, fighting to escape poverty.
Daddy can't help with her real estate
because he's busy being state property

She doesn't even know the meaning of self-worth
Loving the crew without loving herself first.

How can you blame her?
No home training, so niggas trained her.
Disrespected and neglected,
Never knew to correlate the dick with danger.

We associate this stigma to that enigma.

We need some help here.

Have you seen Her?

I'm looking for love, Have you seen her?
I don't mean "like". I don't mean lust. I don't mean "wifey." I don't mean fuck.
I mean love.
I mean one plus one. No extras.
Just us against the world.
With our love to protect us.
I'm looking.
All I keep finding are these other gigs.
I've met a lot of woman I could take home,
but none I could take to my mother's house.
I've had pretty girls: pretty smart, pretty bad.
They all wanted pretty "shit"
Pretty watches, pretty bags.

When I didn't provide Pretty with pretty.
Pretty got pretty mad.
She switched up pretty fast. So I left her pretty ass.

I'm looking for love. I'm not concerned with a trophy.
Pretty doesn't last anyway.

I'm looking for love. Please don't tell me, "Let it find you."
If that's the case, I'm going to sit on my ass and tell love to bring a job too.

So yup, I'm looking for love.
 

So patient I will be, but not because it's a virtue.
But because when you fall in love and don't get caught..
That fall right there will hurt you!

Regardless, I'm still looking for love.

That will forever be my agenda.

 I'm looking for love. Have you see her?

Let's wait

Am I wrong if I tell you that I want to make love to your mind first?

Before giving back shots that sweat out hair and make spines hurt.

I want to make you mine first. I want to put in time first.

I want to eat outside before I devour your insides.

I don't want dessert. I want to dine first.

Can we have a glass of wine first?
Act like kids and bump and grind first?

Don't spoil the pleasure of anticipation, leave the lights on.

I want to see you shine first.

I'm already impressed with your body;
I want you to show me how your mind works.

What makes you focused, how your grind works
before I make your inner thighs hurt.

Postpone the climax for the end of our love movie;
don't give it to me in the intro.

For now, your beautiful face is the only place
I'm checking for a dimple.

Having sex is simple; making love is for grown men.

Let's build a relationship with God first, if eventually we're going to sin.
Let's not do it when our bodies tell us.
But when our hearts and mind say it feels right.

I'm just praying it feels tight
because loose lips sink ship.
Weak walls makes house tumble and fall.