Lyrically Lovely
Because you’re lyrically lovely -
They’ve written every song about you
Trite but true stories about the sun in your smile
The way the wind plays with your hair
They’ve found hundreds of rhymes for the tint of your skin -
A thousand rhythms that throb with your heart
And though they try to tie you down with their ribbons of words,
You fly off the page to be another man’s muse
Self portrait
Like whitened timber
Driftwood on a bare beach
Smooth skin stretched
Riding high on cheek bones
Elbows and knees
The small of the back
The crook of the neck
Weather worn
Storm polished
Unfinished.
The wind
I was born when the caterpillar became a butterfly,
In the first hesitating flutter of her wings, I laughed
Over the ocean’s waves I dance, skimming the surface of its’ mystery
In the bronze barley, I whip my own waves into existence.
In the city, I lift the smog and sweep away the sticky summer sweat
Then I turn around, slapping your faces
Boxing your ears pink, leaving bright red spots on your cheeks
