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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required You rock me wildly To the black rhythms of juju music from the radio; Drinking horn in hand. Not too drunk to tread The course of blue, warmth And moaning shadows behind batiste curtain. Waves crashing beneath your waist beads Ripples tickling the reeds of your hair. An eye is caught watching through The chink of the half-timbered wall. Coyly, you put off the oil lamp. Tonight woman, You smell of sweet sin. I could watch that smile Into the gates of hell. O the juice of your bait With the scent of your sweated melanin skin! Night is beautiful With your passions untamed And your rosy poetry Seeping through your life-giving breath to every sensual cell. Its hard to strain on the leash Woman. Its more comely to be wild. Its black and white except for the butterflies that fly in your eyes And the rainbow in mine That even now reflects in your face by this smile, vaguely. It is a wonder how you uncloak The man within to reveal the lips bite of this hard life. Your finger is rich with finds. I'm not so careful. Call it savoir faire? If you've seen enough to make you run away. Keep the questions coming. You hang me in the gallows of your stoney stare - your fingers sliding into pretence as you carress my face. Pushing me to the wall You feel for the second layer. Crossly, you pull it off To stand face to face with half a man whose footprints you trace walking out the bolted door. Through the venetian blind you find the other half full With the bethrothed of the village chief. Woman that never would be mine. You're jealous of the woman in my head? You feel for my heart Its rhythms not themed of love for you. Lips not a beat in sync with all I swore The moon I lassoed unto your laps deflates like a hot air balloon. Dream of us like a canvass of waterpaint washes under the downpour of your tears. Your azure turns leaden. A brooding silence Brings my tongue confessions unspoken. Indifferent, I taste Bacchus in your mouth As our tongues twined like jolly serpents While I sail the Snake River of your spine Invoking the madness that would spice the night And would make memory lane worth traveling on. You lick me only looking for love bites you never found. You must have thought she is a nun. You smell the borders of my bushy chest like a lion for foreign scents. Woman, your love is territorial! You turn down the volume Kissing me down to my navel with your fangs Strumming my sacred strings with deadly claws. The darkness can not hide you now This is the hour of revelation. The veil of your temple tears apart to reveal ashes that were poems in your censers of 'not-my-kind-of-man' To the one you love that never loves you back. His smile was all the rhymes the muse never gave me. My discovery was lime melting a fat of lies. You turn thin enough To disappear into thin air. Music ends, kicked over By your feet. Too flared up to put on your roseate gown You walk out the Door from my life left always ajar Into the dark wearing your sackcloth. It occurred to me arithmetic was the answer. Halves makes one! Woman, it is not good you're are leaving me stranded. Never knew the night was this cold. Cock crows at dawn with you weeping at my doorstep. Woman did not sleep She found mathematics. Music pours from radio. Halves meet. Curtain.
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