A thin orange layered smoke of love strangles me
speaking your hands of love,
the arteries of amorous light.
It shakes my head and puffs my hands
like a soft blow, a pigeon of my dream.
Dropping ink red kisses, purple waves
hushing me with blue’s of my words
and a strange noise, wrapped like a grey conch
or a sapphire on my wild tongue.
Give me a basket and I shall show you
inundate tales of pain, love, pain
inhibited in the black’s of my locks
indelible, water ripples.
touch and gone, a father’s pride
I shall show you
the wasted twists and memorable turns
my body sweats and sugar dissolves.
I feel the dust soaking my moisture
screeching, soiled pages of my old books
with the openings of nights and lilies, I breathe
and I breathe and I breathe. I try.