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
