When we make love,
her tongue recites
and brings to life
the sweetest of poetry
between my thighs,
just below my hips,
stumbling beautifully
from her cherry red lips.

we would be jazz—
smooth, mellow,
soul-damning.

burning with slow passion
or running and stumbling with joyous laughter.
no matter where we go—
up or down,
fast or slow,
we’d hit all the right notes,
replete with trills and runs,
bringing us to both highs and lows,
making beautiful melodies.

though sometimes
we seem to be out of sync,
it does not discount
from the beauty
that is us.

nothing subtracts.

there is only harmony,
no cacophony.
simplicity or complexity,
staccato or legato,
we will always be
jazz.

I still remember
the night you told me
That you'll do anything for me
The night your eyes were covered by tears
You told me that you loved me
You my dear mother
The inspiration of my life
I dont want you to get hurt
But i still hurt you
I dont want to see you cry
But i still make you cry
I'm sorry for each little tears
that flowed from your eyes
because of me
I wish i could make your life better
By being better

This city cuts
This city bleeds.
The lights are blinding
Concrete streets.

A littered nature
Faded sun
In stitches are
All lakes and farms.

You run and run
Try to escape
You feel the pain
Try not to break

Your soul unfolds
Mind closes gates
You've seen it all
You know the dates.