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Kewayne Wadley Mar 2017
I was a shirt filed with straw and rags.
Pants that hang loose. Jeans cuffed pinned uncomfortably.
Nothing to think of; a hat filled with straw.
The inability to walk. Pinned to a board.
Hickory oak.
Chest disproportionate to a small waist.
Sleeves flung in the wind.
Left standing still; a face motionless.
Pinned to hickory oak.
A shadow left in an empty field, the boundaries of a checkerboard shirt.
The insecurity of straw hands.
Pickett fences to the feet of crows,
Still she'd visit often.
Distance cut short by dark heavy wings.
She'd caw in my silence,
Not knowing the ability to smile I stood against purpose.
She refused to run, poking fun at my hat.
The clothes that hung loosely in the wind, scurf tied tightly around my neck.
Feeling her ***** the strings of my chest.
Strands of straw filled by her need to find a home.
Was there anything there at all before that moment.
Becoming shelter to the way she pried.
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2017
Although tomorrow isn't promised.
Today was once tomorrow;
Becoming yesterday.
A depth often taken for granted.
Consider waking up one of the most beautiful of arrangements.
Perfectly gift wrapped and opened each time we blink.
Eyes coming to full bloom in the promise to make today better than it was yesterday.
Every breath a fragrance of its own as we journey through the garden of life as elegance is elegance,
Sometimes we ***** ourselves in anticipation. The constitution of thorns protecting something pure.
Perfectly unraveled as the day grows on.
For we all toil for the fruit of harvest, sometimes forgetting how precious the fruit really is
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2017
In her heart just beneath her skin lays a tin pitcher.
The spout along with it's sides covered with frost from the coldest of water.
Parched lips long for a drink.
But without cup or glass.

I implore that I have swallowed fear of the utmost; Diving in head first.

A slow sip that eases the insecurity of rejection.

Another sip that interjects that you could be everything that I need.

One more to ensure that  I would gladly drown to be loved by you
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2017
She wore a necklace of thorn
Protecting the petals of her face; soft folds of petal fluttering in the wind.
In a garden filled with pesticide she sought something pure.
Away from insecticide; A poisonous thought left to linger alone.
She'd often flirt with spurts of wind.

Seeking release from root to stem.
Although covered in thorns I kissed her without fear of being pricked.
Wrapping my hands around her body. Caressing the fold of her face.
Never knowing the touch of hands she nestled her thorns deep.

My hands leaked with affection, providing a warmth that stimulated root.
Far away from pesticide. Other insecticides that would ruin her beauty.
She nestled herself in my hand, creating a garden of her own
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2017
When asked, I replied I have a secret if your dying to know.
With enough anticipation I tore nail from wood.
A secret not so much, housed comfortably in a place that no one goes.
Some of the wood dry-rotted, nails now rust.
It still took some prying.
Uncovering a unhinged door in perfect dark.
Nails and wood covering the ground.
When asked what was in there I replied my heart.
Her eyes immediately searched the dark.
Still nothing could be found.
When asked again, I told her that if she looked in the mirror she'd see a clear reflection of it
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2017
We were anointed, becoming one with stained glass.
We delivered ourself.
Resonating bible verses with solid ground.
An infinite shiver in the form of chill bumps across slender arms.
We prayed away anything that wasn't of you.

The Genesis of new beginnings
The arch of open books laid across our laps, we prayed.
We prayed hard. Enclosed were the whispers of closed eyes.
Remaining humble through hard times.
The times we remembered you were there, 
I loved her before I knew you, most highest of the high

discovering that heaven wasn't as far as it seemed.
An ethereal experience. The mysterious way that you work.
We prayed hard, forgetting the things that took place around us.
Deciphering verse after verse.
The Exodus of whom we were resolved in complete Revelation.
Finding jewels in the form of scripture.
We placed them around our necks, around our finger. The seal of a promise.

Finding that vanity too has it's price, through the good. Through the bad.
We found calm in the place of a great storm.
Hands clasped together in faith. 
We found peace in the alter of tightly pressed hands.
The precious lines of fingers and palms fitting the groove of one another.
Filling the gaps of deep woven grooves.

Flourishing the branch of arms, entwining. Discovering the fruit of silence.
With hands like soil our legs like roots.
No matter the wind

Heaven only knows
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2017
You are a Goddess, held upright
With hands that warm the soul and a voice that soothes.
Like water you take any form. Spreading in a dream that falls like drops of reign.
You are a Goddess, in the form of milk and honey.
Is it any wonder why bees love you as much as they do.
Something so rare, so precious.
Almost extinct.  

Spreading in a dream that falls like drops of reign.
Brown sugar, a hint of spice.
A natural remedy that heals the ache of those in need.
Goddess do you truly know how precious, how rare you truly are.

Goddess I look to the moon every night.
Hoping to catch a glimpse of your eyes.
The tranquil gift that looms its gift of comfort.
Your voice
soothing, soft.
The wind that caresses the rounds of my face.

With natural curls of your wavy hair
The stars couldn't compare
Nor the current of the strongest ocean.
Try as they might, they could never compare.
How they must envy the depth of your crown.

Goddess do you truly know how precious you are,
The cure to every aliment, every ache.
Every pain

Do not ever let anyone tell you otherwise.
Do not ever let anyone steal your joy.
For you are a Goddess held upright in the light of the Sun
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2017
Shes the song thats constantly written
then revised in my head.
Only then is she able to come alive and be herself.
Accented in beautiful curve.
Revised in the moments shared in thought.
The slightest touch ; her voice truly heard.
Perfectly arranged in broken prose to unseen eyes.
Beautifully composed; the way that she gives.
Finding purpose.
Constantly singing in my head
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2017
I dwelt in thought.
Reminiscing on the way that she made me feel.
Gradually I moved into her.
Packing light, reassuring that I'd bring the biggest piece of me.
She welcomed me with open arms. Extending a hand, she made room just below her heart.
I left my bag a few inches from her feet. Not wanting to overload her with excess.
She insisted, grabbing my bag with ease.
This was better than any trip I'd ever taken.
Falling in love at first sight. Staring out of the window in my room.
I kissed her once to ensure that what I felt wasn't a dream.
I kissed her again for ever doubting.
My whole inside blushed red.
I hesitated often, not wanting to become a burden in a place that felt like home.
In regards to table manner, we took our plates from one room to the next.
Emptying ourselves on empty plates.
The flutter of racing hearts, the comfort of vibrant linen.
Warm colors layered across one another.
Totally aware that I could be myself. Sleep was nowhere to be found.
Spending the rest of our time up, she gave me a key to ensure that I'd always have a place in her heart.
I gave it back, reassuring that I'd never leave
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2017
In pure essence.
Her heart was an ocean and I,
A whale lost in depth.
Not the prettiest of fish, yet I searched for affection.
Living and breathing, I know not what I sought.
Not understanding that what I sought and her heart were one in the same.
Continuing to live and breath in her essence.
She housed me in affection.
Feeding me from the cusp of her heart.
Drowning me in how strong the current of her heart flowed.
Finding knowledge that swam under the tutelage of schools.
I grew to love her in various length.
Splashing down in the depth of love.
She kept me in the darkest part of her heart.
Forever buried in memory. Discovering the light that peeped through despite
how fast the current flowed.
She calls every so often to see if I've found what I so adamantly sought.
Right in front of me the whole time
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