the blue bow, color of the sky,
color of our tears
she puts it in my hair and fixes it when it falls out
silky like her skin, sweet
perfect and fluttering freely in the breeze

my dreams twist the blue bow into something important—

and they twist her into a killer stuck in a concrete box
head pushed back, knees scraping against the opposite wall
blue bow attached loosely to her hair
she’s a psychic in a town of psychics looking at me funny

i’m wearing the blue bow when i tell her i am
totally, completely in love with her

the blue bow, color of someone’s eyes (not mine),
color of the beads on her bracelet
she takes it back at the end of the day,
small and almost insignificant action
like the way she looks at me

her hands stroking my hair, she’s telling me i’m beautiful
and the blue bow sits there patiently

Ok, there’s no jailbreak.
Make room for my innocent alter ego,
because there’s nothing to rebel against.

There are zero classes in my nascent,
year-long, Harvard master’s degree.
They call it ‘self directed study’
and like rockets have stages,
I’ll have ‘self paced modules.’

Am I suddenly at Oxford University?
They’re quite famous for that (no formal classes).
Or am I suddenly grown up and trusted?
I obviously don’t have it all figured out yet,
so I’ll just trust the process.

When I started that other school
(that shall not be named), my advisor
handed me a computer printout - a list
with something like 40 courses on it.
I thought, “Oh, my God,” but one by one,
year over year, I checked-off those courses
and voila! They handed me a diploma.
It was a process.

I understand, if you’re disappointed about the jailbreak, but there’ll
be coffee breaks, lunch breaks, study breaks, bathroom breaks
and more than a few self-directed dance breaks. So stick around.

“You know,” my therapist said, so very seriously, a few years ago,
“you keep laughing.”
.
.
I've Got the World on a String by Robin McKelle
****** Soul Picnic by Ledisi & Billy Childs

Why
Because it is what it is
Accept it
You don"t have to like it
How you choose to travel on your journey
Is your choice
Tune into your inner voice
Tune out the noise
Find the special in every single day
No matter what it is because it matters to you
Enjoy it any way
Don't spend your life asking why
In the Blink of an eye

It was something you never did
it was something you always did

God rest my soul
Because you never did

I learned to drink
Because you never did
Never defined the moment
Because you always did

God rest my soul
Simply put
I knew you would
Because you never did

Oh you enjoyed the fall
You loved it all

God rest my soul
Because you never did

I gasp, for breath...fading away, below you
helpless, beneath the deluge, of you.
Heat rises, and steams, a rosy flush,
into pale, cold cheeks...
as you waterfall above me,
and I turn my face up to you, in gratitude.

I am a dry...arid flower...
dominate me, with your downpour.
Keep me moaning, in little, breathless gasps...
drunk, on your deluge,
lusting, for the gentle, seething weight,
of your measured, eager touch...
so thirsty, for your rain,
as you slick parted lips, in waves.

Slowly...almost painfully
I ache, and writhe
as you pour over me,
and I gulp, hard,
against your hot embrace.

Mmmmm...lover...caress my bare skin
stream, relentlessly
across the peaks, and valleys
of my dripping, naked body.

I'm so wet, beneath you.
Every dance of droplets,
across these spreading hips,
and long, feminine legs...
every prolonged, whispering touch...
every sweet, steaming kiss,
steals my breath away,
and leaves me shuddering,
quivering,
groaning, helplessly,
beneath the lick of your warmth
across these rounded, fleshy cheeks.

I die, a little more, each time
you wash over me,
As I drink you in
...unashamed of the little pool,
you've got forming beneath my bare feet,
and tightly curled toes.

I'm...drenched,
tingling, from my head,
to my toes...
soaked, but satisfied,
beneath the incredible force, of you.

...I just can't get enough, of you.