these things come
when I sit and observe
standards multilayered
around and textured
with a ladel then cut with
a wire cutter
the superficial happiness
but whether theseI can't
do it I can't write yes I can
hide out in my shame
shut the world outside
too weary on his ideas
too weary on his thoughts
when the day comes
when the sun comes
good things come
don't sleep, I have to stay up
show them all I am
where things go
in a bath house
I won't have anything to do
with you when these things
execute, please, I will
take off my ring for the
day in order to forget
the pain and to learn to trust
in my self and look towards
the Sun, good things come
in a city that never sleeps
where you have to stay up
I enjoy the moment
Harlem: where her and I and friends
can ride around, drink,
smile and I won't have to care
about the man who I will give myself to
for that moment he wouldn't care of me
in my hour, his slowly crooning
wraps around my neck like rings
and squeezes tightly gently
like a baracuda python:
I was good but I'm better now
I was good but I'm better now
relief comes through
and he strokes me with his
voice and a melody splishes around the corners
cement, sidewalks and he does one
last gulp of his yesness:
to say yes to me, which he did,
but he says with a smug and takes me
by the hand: with an angelic smile
but he doesn't mind the way they droop
the way they sag
for him it's like a nursery
holy water leaks out and his mouth fits perfectly round
my teats and his eyes sparkle up at me
for once I feel his affection
I feel that I am his object of desire
in this moment to be his object feels well
swells my stomach and swells my chest
makes my palms sweat
gives me something to cruise about
I keep it close to my heart
he morphs around me and grabs me
and kisses me: bringing reality I wish it was him
but he keeps giving slight kisses on me
breaths and sweet eyes
and he's so handsome
I'd love to hear you say you love it
you love me