Sangviness
Divineness
All sorts of
Grace-messy
Hair-tangles
Mr. Bo Jangles
OH! Grace
Galloping
Kelly
Affairs
Secretive smiling

Cheeks and lips
slip out potent
Wines spill about
He lashes out!!
Only to mask
Not to see
Never to ask
Do I ask?

Whispers Nirvana
Palm Trees dance
Salsa Hot steps
Copacabana

He drank the wine
From the vine
Deep rooted
Beyond his border
Where the sun shined
warmth by design
Which bloomed sweet fruit
He stole from another

I’m searching for an answer.
Surrounded by monogamists I crawl and weep,
Surrounded by dogmatists I hunger.
I’m searching for a key to unlock the doors of profanity.
I don’t want to hear something about the seasons,
Or anything about ethics.
No more flowers,
Away with the aesthetic of yore.
Give me the affairs, the filth, secret lives.
Give me the runaways, the elderly, the jokesters.
Give me the casanovas and cougars.
I search this rotten boulevard and t
All night, all night, even during the day..
I’m on the search..
I’m looking for a key to unlock the doors of profanity.

They say that one hundred years ago
Women ‘earned’ the right to vote
It makes you wonder what men did
To earn that right before us.
It must’ve been something pretty impressive.

I am not a novelist writer, I could never fill chapters of our affairs.
The only way I know how to love is intimately and destructively unaware.

This tongue was created to turn saints into sinners.
Nothing excites me like bringing out the demons within her.

Just like the seasons love to trick her every year,
when she finally begins to feel comfortable,

I disappear.