Retrograde

I’ve slid down a course, riddled with so many holes that it looked it as though it was a modern fashion statement.  The burn marks along my back and arms serve as painful reminders that declines favor the great.  The deeper the hill dips, the higher the stakes.

There have been so many statements that I have made in great faith proclaiming a love from Heaven echo-locating through my heart, just to orient around you.  Or her. Or she. There have been so many, that I have esteemed to be higher than any when really- they were simply of bargain-able value like the two through eight dollar menu at Denny’s.

I mean no disrespect.

It was the foolishness of my heart combined with a passion for a passionate life full of no regret that permitted me to rack up so many emotional tickets just because she was fine.  Looking back I have realized that I was born out of time like an empty hour glass. And as such, life has been rough, because deep in my heart I yearn for a smooth culture like fine wine. Aged unto grace, and adorned by the wreath of time.

And it is for precisely this reason that I can never go back.

Martin Luther King couldn’t return to the valley after seein his dream at the mountaintop… Lazarus couldn’t ignore life’s call even after his body stopped.  I done came up to the come up, cuz baby you’re the one up.  Virgin Mary’s daughter cuz you saved me from this hellish stuff.

The games are no longer enticing.  The stormy skies, and broken hearts are no longer exciting.  I used to be a one spark guy, but now it’d take a notebook full of flame for there to be any igniting.

Love is where you are, and I’ll simply go without if you’re not beside me. The sight of thee hath given me wings up past sky’s reach-

And I’m never coming back down.

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Cover Up Girl

This is to my cover up girl…

To my queen in the long dresses, real smile, and real hair.  She is a maze of amazing qualities calling my name from higher up.  In order to even capture her gaze in her capturing essence I must go higher up.  I cannot simply look up, but stand down, no- I must rise like dark night to dawn, touch my feet to clouds and stand. My. Ground.

My cover up girl isn’t like all the rest. She’s got class like Mrs. Cleaver, but yall just leave it to cleavage and though I blink when I see it, I already know… on the echelon pole of women with angelic glow she’s a rose on top while yall just battle for the bottom post.  My cover up girl is a secret like your deepest woes, but she wields joy in spades because her heart’s in the right place.

I never met a girl I didn’t want to holla at until I met her… Nor yet since. It’s nonsense to think another girl exists with her sense…  Never met a girl who I didn’t take at least ten seconds imagining what it might be like getting up under her skirt- caressing her face until my finger tips danced romantilustfully down her shirt so we could do the tango and end up… tangled.

My cover up girl gives me nothing to work with save the work I put in listening and trying to sound intelligent. Sure sexiness and crude humor loom under the sailing moon of our conversations, but for once… I don’t want it.  I don’t want the cart before the horse, the sweets before the main course, and what’s blowing my mind is, the depth of this friendship is making her more attractive than any girl I’ve touched or fantasized about before!

Good Lord!

It must be pig flyin season…

This is to my cover up girl.

For takin pride in this time between being invisible and seen… It calls out the man in me.

This is to my cover up girl who does not even know I admire her so…

Your wrap of choice is the jeweled gates of Heaven and even if nobody else believes it… I know.

Thank you… my cover up girl.

Still Got It

The way those hips twitch like rhythmic grass blades dancing to Jamaican drums.  More than just runs for fun the sun runs closer to just place its warmth in your arms.

Now you are the light.

You think them babies made you look old, but baby you slayed the last dragon and you got that glow! Makes the 18 years olds wanna holla and the rest of us plan to propose! You should know that when you think nobody’s watchin is when the tick tockin of your body has captured the gaze of the whole globe.

You’ve still got it.

That fire. That magic. That eye contact so electric. Whether or not you make it to the salon you’re on like your favorite tv show, and we breathe your class like oxygen. Men, everywhere, are tunin up to tune in because it’s senseless to approach a gem with an unappreciative hand… or heart.  Tough enough to keep yourself intact, but cherished so much they can’t rush for they might accidentally tear you apart.

He wants to be the shoulder you cry on – not the cold shoulder you cry over.

Yes- HE.

The mysteriously specific king looking to crown the queen who already is. 

Attractiveness? You got that.

Charm? Without a doubt.

Sexy? Not even a question (but yes in every language if you still insist on askin).

You’ve got class, swag, and beauty and truly the groom he will duly make you his “yours truly” not from the logic of a good move, but from loving, passionate duty.

When you walk? Your pricelessness makes the price less on every priceless price list… YOU are the prototype woman- every gem that you see flashin was fashioned after you.  From your intellect, to your sarcasm, down to the way you move… Love arrows mean nothing because Cupid learns from you!

So never doubt. Release that smile and shake that hair. Strut your stuff and live in confidence- the competition can take a chair. Sit em down, and school em for a minute… They want it- you flaunt it.

You’ve still got it;-)