to love yourself is an art-
so i let nameless men sketch
their fantasies along my hips
to prove that i am too,
                                                a masterpiece.

**** in an antique wooden frame
that hangs by my throat
gagging on the subject of
                                                 love.

the devil dances with me at night.
he makes love with prose  
and by morning he will not have remembered what he said.

before sunrise,
he falls asleep and i am left with unsaid words.

willingly, ive become his.

you are my escape under the moon
and a deal with the devil has made
        everything all right.

no, querido, there’s no one to come see us.

the sun set awhile ago and she wants to get away.

curiosity is tempting.

no, mi amiga, there’s no one to come see us.

this neighborhood reminds me of distant families we no longer talk to.

strands of my hair
       tangle around your fingers.
you're pulling on the strings
                    of my mind.

so delicate
with your touch.

        it reminds me of
sunday mornings
making love.

it blossoms itself from mossy ponds and glistens in humid summer rains.
the days pass quickly so often
it is hard to reminiscence
how beautiful it has been.

do you want me to go home
when you want me?

my heart stumbled into this/
will you be mine?
i’ll surrender my kings for your company
that has proved to be divine.

the mad woman shot the
bare black sky & said “please, goddess of light, can death spring a thousand
red rose petals in my blue dreams?”

lets talk love under these duvet sheets, boy,
youll see what i mean we can kiss and nibble on each
other's needs and **** our fantasies into ecstasy
ill trace my nails across your pink lips just as long as you tell me please
sweet talkin and my sweet voice
i wont hesitate to make you mine, boy,
but we can be patient and i can keep  waitin, for now ill just keep  layin under these duvet sheets
while you push yourself up against me and  kiss my forehead to sleep