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the problem with
being a poet in love,
is that you savour
& trust each word your lover has
without  question.

we are simply in love
with bare literature,
spoken from the lips of someone we hold
in higher regard
than ourselves sometimes.

when you love a poet
each word you utter,
should be a piece of artwork

each sentence,
a highly thought out structure of awe and beauty to leave us seeping
in the warmth of your voice
caressing such fine words

so when deciding that you love someone,
who writes or reads
fill their souls with beauty, memories & truth especially,
for a poet's heart breaks at ease.
thoughts.
Start thinking about
Where you go when you die
Does your soul rest where your coffin is
or is death just a metamorphasis
I have hungered to be filled,
satiated down to the very fiber of
my being.

Am I crazy to crave food with such
carnal intensity?  Expecting chocolate
sugary goodness to satisfy the soul's
hunger underneath my physical craving.

But not everything has to be about God,
does it?  Sometimes, I just want to savor
the rich decadence of dark chocolate mingled
the burning fire of a chili pepper.

Am I coveting?  Am I being sinful to be too
material and sensual?  ******* it!  I bet
God loves taking a slow bite of chocolate.

I keep dividing the world into
material and spiritual.  
Maybe that's why I'm so hungry?
I was trying to be humorous about my own struggle with finding a spirituality that integrates my body and carnal desires.
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new
 Apr 2014 Jazzelle Monae
i
even if i love you
with all my heart,
it's still not enough,
because i‘m me,
and you're you.
 Apr 2014 Jazzelle Monae
i
untitled
 Apr 2014 Jazzelle Monae
i
there is nothing prettier
than a city at 5 am
with its empty streets and
cold wind.
all rights go to d.c.
 Apr 2014 Jazzelle Monae
R
Untitled
 Apr 2014 Jazzelle Monae
R
Should be gone
but instead I am here
leaving scars like
a human normally does
and falling hopelessly
in love with
death.
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