no more poems for your (ass)

those days have passed,
when i used to kiss it
had me lickin' it

like life couldnt go on
if i wasn't missin' it

my niggas called me bitch/
couldnt see how i was turnin tricks
wrapped around your finger
as you pedicured the tips

didnt give me more thought
than takin' a shit

could be as hypnotic as
the purest fix
but you had to go and taint
it with your lies,
calling even the sight of you
heaven's gift...

but i'll tell you this...

heaven will never have a love like this

and neither will u
neither will
u








*********************************

exist in limbo.

"we are accidents waiting to happen" -radiohead

"Poetry is a kind of distilled insinuation. It’s a way of expanding and talking around an idea or a question. Sometimes, more actually gets said through such a technique than a full frontal assault." -Yusef Komunyakaa

"The Black Artist's role in America is to aid in the destruction of America as he knows it. His role is to report and reflect so precisely the nature of the society, and of himself in that society, that other men will be moved by the exactness of his rendering and, if they are black men, grow strong through this moving, having seen their own strength, and weakness; and if they are white men, tremble, curse, and go mad, because they will be drenched with the filth of their evil."

-Amiri Baraka, from "State/meant" in the essay, "Home"

"My love is my soul's imagination. How do I love thee?...Imagine." -Saul Williams