Buy me a book to write my life away,
My weird fuckery, ***** nasty thoughts
laced with you.

Days pass diluted with memories of you.
I remember when the sun danced for you.
It danced off your mahogany skin to mine.
I remember how you kissed every part of my soul,
Caressed each line and bend of me.

My heart wrote music for you once,
Melodies for you ears only.  

Buy me a book and I will fill every page,
line, space, boarder with you.
The man of my past and present
who traces  scares with intent to kiss.

Writing and driving never mix.
But I'm afraid thought will tie laces to shoe and flee.
Flee leaving me wordless, breathless, and poor
Poor begging on the corner of inspiration.
So panic rises in my chest ,
heart to ear,
pores  open with sweat.
Im urged in haste to write.
Write with images of words streamlining to the chorus
of phrases and thoughts passing.
I write and write.
Write until images fade to grey leaving me open and warm.
As a newborn to mothers milk,
I am full,
safe,
and inspired.

He is sugar and charm
My whenever
however
delectable treat
My sentimental mood
meets Funny Valentine
My very own 21st Century Miles Davis

My heart runs to you
But my body stills.....

Simple is the dialect of an untainted tongue....

You are cotton candy light
sweetness to perfection......