July 26, 2016

Good morning,
I write with you still on the tip of my fingers ...
Table scraps of memories and all the places you bring me by the slight twitch and dip pf your muscles
I know nothing like your brand of love and thrust
Not lust,
But divinity
And the sacred energy produced by the rain,

of crashing elements
Foggy and sticky
You are in a lane,

of your own

Super-sane patterns of flattery

The bedroom name "Goddess" falls from
Your lips with ease
And prove how you've missed the alchemy of my chocolate
Strapped down by stardust
Chiseled as if cut from greek god cloth
Divinity inferred
And fortified at the seams,
Sealed in Onyx
Black diamond of perfection
You wield weaponry
That threatens me, to escape the barriers
Keeping me on the peaceful side of the barricade
Striding down streets with the fire of protest and implosion
Washing away anything i'd known about how the night might end
Days begin,

suspended on your lead

Cheering on the twerk of my hips
And calling out Godd when you see her!
Stark and ignorant to sin,
New depths within
Caressing her climatically
Dramatically designing right now with pens made of static
Spastic with magic
And unconcern for appearance
Spirit fuck
We Transcend.

-Amani O+ 

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© 2019 by Amani O+

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Last updated May '20.

New York State,

Lenape to Mahican territory

and beyond.