gysuda
brown skin girl.. where are you these sunny daze of summer. could
you be bending and flexing and maxing to the beauty of your dance, to
the rhythm of your said inner voice, rambling like the seasoned
dispositon of your falling arms your hips, your neck, your eyes..
feet..dancing in time, for time, at this said time, of my own
scribblings and ravings of lust..and imaginings.
i digress here, with the flowered words, dropping petaled fragrances
to my own desire and hunger, for that there remembered body, hold,
grip and smile. the dedication to the artifice of the dance..of you.
laughter erupts in my head, as i write, thinking that you will barely
have time to scan the lines or read these words, as many times as
one..
for you are in the midst of it, the thick of it. as it goes, i
persevere and steer the worded ships into orbit and shoot straight
there to you.
i am writing to bring the sun to you.set it at your feet and have the
stars light your path when you dream or sleep.
i shake the seeds from my hair, and grow a beanstalks straight to the
doors of your heavenly chamber. i smile with you, to reveal the
light of the unverse, burning itself free to dance.. you in the
spotlight of your soul. remember to remember.. that your body
remembers.
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