There was a certain method to his beauty
Standing there like a masterpiece Waiting for a sexy artist like me To brush him with a colorful, unique flavor And finish him off with just the right stroke. There was a certain science to his fineness, Posing like an experiment that Needed just the right imagination To be a cure for his magician’s touch A Madame cure-all like me. There was a certain rhythm to his strength African drumming for a classical conductor me-style With fingers that slide along his . . . keyboard Lips wrapped around the trumpet piece Seeking the right pitch Like he’s a well-played note. There was a certain poetry to his intelligence, Free versing for a creative, cute piece To write him like the sweetest little stanza And enter him as smoothly As words on the tongue Edited and ready for publication By a sophisticated writer like me Him molding to my sista-chic, Scientific, musical, artistical ways Shaping him till he was Custom-made.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
LLFarmerPoetry came first. Archives
April 2020
Categories |