To make her happy don't take a lot.. She don't ask for things - no diamond rings. She's on a mission but not to prove something, but to be something. and being that proves everything and nothing at all. She is a revolution in herself. Revealing the fragrance of argument as irresistable as life itself. Panting, playing swaying ranting. A miracle flow in dark shades rhythms and glow. Feet firm, hands solid, eyes quick fondling sucking rolling in the fourteenth sheet this week vivacious and bountiful she is exchange Rays of light bust and creep 3 am from waking dreams of Black Ceasar she rouses from sleep in bitter bile never nebulous but sharp as a pointing pube, funky fragging some dude on the tube A sacred hoop around her waist in powerful thrusts she swings it rub a dub style head high no shaky cam as the roommate sings it for history's sake a phone call away from solace and peace these firefly satellites dance luminous all in her close orbit the connection she make me they we whole at least this part and dizzy we circle like moths and like hawks and like vultures and gulls she is a fire a mouse a wounded wildebeast and the Carmel of our Western dreams Alas poor sister, abandoned and gay, her small heart still hoping for freedom her way For choking reams and pillars of strength she wanders our desert climbing our cacti and screaming on top alone I cry and feel this pain where I am cut to my soul and bleeding out color and babies and hot, salty symbols of sex unreleased, unrepentant, unbound but to abstractions and new love made real and love is but love so where is my language? to skies and anguish she paces and cringes and sighs and walks forward knowing, growing glowing love in superstring knots of 30 dimensions. annoyed distracted from life by the cynical parade she throws thorny roses at bare breasts and scoffs at self pity don't waste your time sis, dream a world you've got to hold on to your love it wrinkles her face once more as she grits a grin that wrestles the beast her teeth sharp and distinct work every angle deconstructs with laser precision titles and words, politically correct mental giants in teeter totters shoot to kill in blinded wisdom around a square of deceit and interests fire and courage, safety in no pasture crisp november embers of dry months past kindled for new meaning, burning new faces reversed discrimination making different colored targets on the same suspects witness she weeps, weary she wars wednesday she sleeps |