And because love battles
not only in its burning agricultures
but also in the mouth of men and women,
I will finish off by taking the path away
to those who between my chest and your fragrance
want to interpose their obscure plant.

About me, nothing worse
they will tell you, my love,
than what I told you.

I lived in the prairies
before I got to know you
and I did not wait love but I was
laying in wait for and I jumped on the rose.

What more can they tell you?
I am neither good nor bad but a man,
and they will then associate the danger
of my life, which you know
and which with your passion you shared.

And good, this danger
is danger of love, of complete love
for all life,
for all lives,
and if this love brings us
the death and the prisons,
I am sure that your big eyes,
as when I kiss them,
will then close with pride,
into double pride, love,
with your pride and my pride.

But to my ears they will come before
to wear down the tour
of the sweet and hard love which binds us,
and they will say: “The one
you love,
is not a woman for you,
Why do you love her? I think
you could find one more beautiful,
more serious, more deep,
more other, you understand me, look how she’s light,
and what a head she has,
and look at how she dresses,
and etcetera and etcetera”.

And I in these lines say:
Like this I want you, love,
love, Like this I love you,
as you dress
and how your hair lifts up
and how your mouth smiles,
light as the water
of the spring upon the pure stones,
Like this I love you, beloved.

To bread I do not ask to teach me
but only not to lack during every day of life.
I don’t know anything about light, from where
it comes nor where it goes,
I only want the light to light up,
I do not ask to the night
explanations,
I wait for it and it envelops me,
And so you, bread and light
And shadow are.

You came to my life
with what you were bringing,
made
of light and bread and shadow I expected you,
and Like this I need you,
Like this I love you,
and to those who want to hear tomorrow
that which I will not tell them, let them read it here,
and let them back off today because it is early
for these arguments.

Tomorrow we will only give them
a leaf of the tree of our love, a leaf
which will fall on the earth
like if it had been made by our lips
like a kiss which falls
from our invincible heights
to show the fire and the tenderness
of a true love.

All Hours of the Night
That range of time is too random
to be alone in the dark with yourself
It's the loneliest time to think you over
because like the sweetest stanza
of the prettiest poem no one will ever read;
we were pointless
If I can recall
you said so yourself
My faith in the possibility had been exhausted
My heart...
I've since changed the lock
with no bother about a spare key
Sounds like some slick ****
a poet assigned to you would say
I found a reasoning you should try yourself...
I trust nothing;
I know me too well
to believe I can talk myself into getting over you
You must be proud of yourself
the way you get all up in me right under my nose
My defenses though... just in case
My personality splits
All Hours of the Night
I captain this hook
and refuse to pardon heartbreakers
with three strikes at love
I rob in the hood
I'll take everyone for everything
and give anything I can get away with to you
Those are my instincts
There's nowhere to go to get around yourself
I work like a fool
but when the struggle rises above my head
I learn to swim again
What's a synonym for dope boy
Started as a runner
Stick up kids out to tax
when bust your gun
is all you've got going for yourself
Around and around
and I hate that I love your badside
All Hours of the Night
By the rim of your ears
and nape of your neck
To the point of your *******
and past your belly's button
Until my mouth found your flower's fruit
and sipped its juice;
Until your *** was trickling down my chin
I wanna lick you senseless
Imagine that...
I thought you were ready
but knew about the clause in your description denouncing heavy lifting
And our love was like dead weight back when
At least there's that...
I'd have to eat the blame one way or the other
I've seen you zing it from your index finger
at everyone but yourself
You ain't for this life
A mountain lion
would knaw off it's leg to escape capture...
Is that a chill or a phantom sensation
All Hours of the Night
You were on some other **** yourself
The way you captained this hook
and made me wanna pardon heartbreakers
with three strikes at love
Those are your instincts;
Never trick where you lay your head
Keep your family close and your haters closer
Improve yourself
Progress
Prevail
And money before good ****
Sounds like some slick ****
a demon assigned to a poet would say
in the condescending tone
you've owned
since the very first frame
I found a reasoning you should try yourself...
I trust nothing
You must be proud of yourself

busybodies made the sign
center mass
of imperceptible crosses over themselves
and swore we were jane and joe
for the umpteenth time..

God as their witness

the re-embodiment of ***** slaves
evident by the way we run.. instinctively
and sometimes in dissimilar directions
afraid to feel since their intercession

i'd straighten up against the wall
so you could measure
if the nervous system was my major
or some simpler thing to interpret
or i could make gravity forget
and you would see that i'm taller than my dreams

there's no make pretend at the roots of my poems

as honest as a kiss
as fair as the day you fell from a door in the sky
wearing a cloud for a parachute
singing something about giving good love

these applications were hardly suspect
before the mistrustful mouths of boys and girls
without enhanced halves of their own

for whatever reason
they need to see us segregated
and claim to have "the goods" on my ghost
but can uncover no more than what i've written

the world was unsightly before i met you

i was a thief and a liar
and peddled too many types of toxins
so even uglier
and was irresponsible in love and life
but this season'll be brighter than former editions
even without the ginger and gold
that made the trees attractive  
or the banks you made angels in

what more can they tell you

who i was is the bogeyman beneath the bed
that will steal your eyes if you let em
and because love battles..
i've since removed it's overweight tongue
buried it's spirit alive
and kept no past account so sacred
as to raise any uncertainties from the dead

what you've seen is all there is to me

but i'm almost sure beauty can't be taught
and you must care for some secret all your own
in the silver locket maybe
you wear around your wrist

is why they'll rumor about its contents as well
and unapologetically so
if history or the natural order of things
is any indication
until you swear you're no root woman
because someone had to have convinced the village
"it would take a drop of his blood and an unholy spell..."
for you to have me
but we're only imperfect apart
so our music makes more sense
mean in the throat of a hummingbird
or on old vinyl records

static is a metaphor for the arduous nights
and only makes us stronger
if it doesn't **** us in our sleep
we were predestined and earlier than this life

i committed your profile to memory
in a carolina rice field
beneath a haze as warm as hellfire
more than a decade
after the  emancipation of the grind
when you bet everything on your wedding ring
and was taught there ain't nothing complementary about (free)dom

they couldn't break us
they never will
this thing we've comprised is a gift
from the Gods who gave us mary and mahalia
and stars like vanilla chips
embedded in a dark chocolate sky
even before we could read
and i could write you poetry
about ordinary things as soft as your smile

there are no plantations in heaven
though death is some thing less than a formality
when true love is as relentless

for the umpteenth time
if we come back without our papers
i'll wait for you, barefoot in the churchyard

ready to run