women come most
gorgeous, mouths desire, taste buds are social, a winner, one might impress her—the
pain of craving, those dice for living, or to have until …
most melodic
voice, most awe-inspiring features, so lively, incognito, to have seduced the
sun; helpless to ignore science, frantic to chance excellence, with rain
dripping into seas.
more than a few,
less than many, so courageous—to have given weakness, its honor, so meek, too
crucial.
most would excuse
us—so empty, fretting fullness, breath tasting like honey; aiming for it,
angling for wrath, so studied to adore, if but to die gracefully.
the eyes of hawks,
so lit, fearing pure ecstasy—dusty terrain, dusky skies, to have played chess.
giving anything,
it’s not enough, giving all of me, it barely achieves; purposed in brown skies,
turquoise hips, an excellent pash—fueled like engines, touching like sinning,
if winning means dahlias.
such a sexy tattoo,
drives one dizzy, sex is selling—it always has … it’s sophisticated more, it
takes so little, so much, a soul dies in the streets.
