Matches Into Black Tea

The ceremonial brew that…

Twists together…

To make the perfect liquids…

Adding to hydrogen blown…

Going boom…

Her sword can cut me…

Into her ends and outs and piles of happiness…

In suckable stipends…

Wrapping me up like…

I am the burrito…

A strong tuck, tucked to your stomach…

like waistbeads…

Can I lay on you…

The bed frame is a rough sailings…

Making its way to heaven…

Hit from the back, yes I’m sure of it…

Knock knock…

Opening up the pearl harbor early…

So I can dock my hardship…

Enough for the liquid icing to shine…

It all up…

Lap increased open…

To slide into the wheels of fortune, penetrating…

That course of composer so juicy…

Till I ease the end in…

Onto the onion…

Crying out for more, raw consumption…

Radar detecting out…

That, outstanding oral fixation…

Updated, plated for my order…

Sweating has increased for my pleasure…

Falling out of your poor’s like…

Elderly black women in church…

Feeling the Holy ghosts…

Some hot black tea till our time together divorces…

This overdose…

Sensational vacation…

Verbal, vocabularies coming out if…

done right….

Fading Nostalgia

I’m fresh out of the house of corrections. Back up on the block. Dodging torpedoes and the crooked time out.

Thugged all the way out. With gold teeth shining almost blinding. It should be a crime how fly I am right now.

Beef and broccoli timberlands. Brand new unlaced so they won’t choke. North Face jacket with hard plastic in my pocket.

Boot cut jeans. I couldn’t do that tight skinny jeans shit! My brown and green sweater from old navy.

My brown gap hat with courage imprinted on the front. Cell phone going off on my hip equals more money.

I was 22 or maybe 23. Somehow I must have known magic. I litterally made a quarter million disappear. I ain’t going to lie though… Somehow I miss those days when all of my guys were here.

We took a picture that day. It was 32 of us. If I could take that picture now. There would be (not including me) there would be only six of us…….

I guess death and permanent incarcerating knew magic too. I kind of Miss those days when we would all walkthrough the streets 30 deep.

We stopped cars walking to the gas station. I miss my guys….

R.I.P. All the guys! Free all the guys too!