Cupid Hit Me With Precision (A Poem)

September 26, 2018

do the ribs hold the womb

does the tiger transform 

is it natural to open a woman

for she may never blossom como la flor

 

the sweet nectar from your lips drip from my chin to my chest 

warming my bosom

scattered fragments of a silent crest

 

 

 together at last 

says the sun to the moon 

forever right now 

whispers of secret lovers at night 

 

high school was never for me 

blue jeans and tired eyes

longing for freedom

drawing long sighs

 

there was once a you 

forever a me 

together at last 

I'd say it's meant to be

 

do the ribs hold the woman

does the tiger transform 

is it natural to open a wound 

so that the womb may heal again

 

do flames know they open keys with doors 

does the tide break for a new day 

are the lakes of fire consumed by a desire 

 

how come it's passion and lust 

when it's about asking for trust

 

its the crinkles on your eyes 

the flip of your hair 

the chain on your neck 

the look no one buys 

 

it's not the lack of confidence 

making ripples in time 

or the hidden grin 

behind generations of crime 

 

the bird swallows 

the bell tolls 

the beast leaps 

just before its time of feast

 

love is the wine 

never ending vineyards 

spilling, coughing

over time 

 

your hand in mine 

hold it tight baby and we will be fine 

 

because 

 

there was once a you 

forever a me 

together at last 

I'd say it's meant to be

 

the rib makes the woman 

the tiger forever transforming 

unnatural wounds of centuries 

desolate wombs 

forever healing

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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