Cupid Hit Me With Precision (A Poem)


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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