Such is her fair complexion
That colored eyes fall false compare to her inner reflections
Within each wing, one lies

The world is a colored place where the monogamous mix
Where women write about colorful costals
I call it la petite mort
And men are black enslaved and powerful in the Pentacostal
Love is monochrome
That can bridge twin wings
Where one rides the ocean rides
The other covets the blue skies in moorish lassitude
Life is childlike and monochromatic
No one waits for the last
Unless they reproduce cash
When will we leave
When will we leave
****, when will we leave money behind
Forever
Such is her complexion that money quantifies it