How do I tell you that you’re beautiful?
How can I be different?
How can I express my attraction?
When columns upon
Of testosterone filled wolves
Dressed in rented Italian suits
And discolored, mesh sneakers
Speak similar flirtatious dialect
Will this baby scented Sunflower do the trick?
I picked it from my walled Garden of Eden.
I spent 4 years mending these butterfly coated petals,
Solely for this moment
How can I express my need for your smile?
When tattered paper donations have been sent
To elicit short-term, newlywed goose bumps upon your flesh
May I have this dance?
You’ve never heard this sensual ballad.
But, it’s an element of my Spoken Word
Waiting for your translation
I await your palms,
Because this is not a Man’s world
This can be ours.
But, will you leap off from trampoline’s corazon?
My syllables are in your hands.
My book is within your misunderstood palm paths.
If you’re going to read between my lines,
Do not be illiterate to my heartbeats.
©Drake J. Eszes