i stood on a star and put the (uni)verse on notice..
in love for the first time;
never prior to hearing her speak could i've known any emotion as forthright or that it had a voice a podium and an audience to give its whole mouth to...
taught me how to pronounce the same scattered thoughts that once upon a self-conscious moment would dissolve on the base of my tongue like potent hallucinogens...
the same sentiments i couldn't enunciate to save my life
i've become an abstract illustration of what it is to be moved and a slave to vacant canvases
bad ***** that she is...
beauty to my beast and as feel good as a four letter word her poems are as fine as the source or a frozen red rose in an empty wineglass and hard to find vintage vinyl albums my drops are laced with the blood of wordsmiths
we're hip-hop thick skinned an all-black cathedral choir a solar eclipse big things
her poems are the bones of what's left of me or candy yams on sunday or a ***** dollar bill stuck to the bottom of my shoe good luck like that and her own personal soapbox
our sessions are privileged my crystallized thoughts are off key all the rage... we work unsuspecting platforms like subway performance artists
her poems are intimate touches in chantilly lace or a pair of oatmeal tim's refined and love me, love me nots penned in tear drop blue
we're so cultural religious and impartial to love while our political joints march with their fists raised in protest of voter suppression
baby girl's, frances to my zeke once upon a time in the projects and one way or another she's happy people
dope like cannabis sweet like cane sugar and as beloved as ms. ida brown's tattered bible #myword
dear shorty,
i want my poetry and write it too all ink smeared roads lead back to you