мне для мужчины

light in the chatter of wind,
bedroom eyes for your palm
fits right into belonging.

to ring me clean of dirty fingers
and flesh to grip -
it is yours to linger.

newly piece in
the morning, the sun and its blister
softly.

take me for a prize of
priceless love.

you will in the end, charming, and coyly,
wound smiling. as they all feast while
dining. 

hi. i'm fabulous, even when my hair is dirty. ok.bye.

welcome, spring.

(writers block)

A cord to your soul
Stretches as far as the ocean.
Life is for taking.
Crumpled notes lay heavily with fury.
Your virtuoso of deceit. 

Verve on the edge of the earth,
Where pen and paper
Amalgamate with thundering clouds,
With veneration for art. 

From mother Earth’s arms you
Spellbind, sprout
To break loose.
Melody
Lays resting.
Cradles the body
With pureness. 

Guitar strings - a fingerprint on damp wood.
Something to be worshiped, somewhere
Along the crumpled notes awaits a muse. 

Fatigued, a tongue that speaks of many seasons --Capitulated,Fails to bloom.