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| Titanium sorcery painted with black souls she stands calling touch me caress me with your metaphors tease me with your similes your double entendres tickle my electrons her voice is deafening the thought of her invades me like an inquisition she sprinkles fear in my lungs like glitter I am breathless permeated with the desire to speak but I am tongueless fireflies waltz in my belly caterpillars race to my fingertips crickets dance in my knees my legs won't stop shaking she entices me like the sound of wind chimes in the desert captivates me like the eclipse of two souls in the rain her structure deceives me not an infinite cavern lies in the hollow cove of the stand she has been ingesting words since the beginning of time she's tasted mournful whispers and swallowed enraged octaves of poets who have come before me the microphone transfers poems into genetic dust the memory of perfect verses, standing ovations and forgotten lines have all become ashes collected at the base of the pole the heaviness of her history keeps her standing tall A library of love lost an encyclopedia of stolen legacy she is omnipotent frankincense and weed smoke mother earth and the mother whore the birth of man and the abortion of civilization cold colloquialisms XXX haiku's enchanting conundrums puppy love and suicide red Kool-Aid and heroin she's been serenaded will all facets of life she knows I love her I dread her but I am drawn to her she has raised many kings and humbled many victors she lulls me with sweet seashell songs I'm coming... I'm coming... My words are dipped in honey sprinkled with fairy dust injected with charisma and spiced with vengeance She is titanium sorcery painted with black souls embellished with history her-story and now... My story |
| MY ODE TO THE MICROPHONE by Queen D |
| The Scrambler art-literature-music/arte-literatura-música |
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