And I shouldn't be able to hear you breathe or think redeemer's thoughts to any invisible ally. You're charming. I'm finally capable of flirting with a soldier whose both hands around my neck at a party, out in public, sensuous or fractured, playful or drastic, are exactly there, a skilled bashfulness, if I tell you I'd have to ... in quick-pivoting gasps that immaculate manhood
--
Shame is a disaster the tabloid blurts out divorces in every grocery store check-out line and no one cries shotgun until the casualties are read by ghosts in the that again machine that immaculate mashing of silence with meaning we stood in between for a while radicalized into abstractions Delicate hostage situation Angela Davis Sam Cooke isn't Africa beautiful like Tennessee, Mandrill, reading aloud in prison I shall be / released Tupac crying over Dolphy's sheet music bluejays circling clockwise peacock gardens and dissatisfaction that always felt safe because our people are starving and the waif became the head nigga in charge
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This started out as a love song so true it almost forgot itself. Hot grits fell from the sky surface like windows and turned Al Green into an accidental gospel and we convinced all the squeals into a sculpture together, your hands around my neck at a fanatical party, recklessly tender while I cradle the radio like a subtlety, Sun Ra in Egypt and Italy at the same seam / troubless chocolate sugar baby being consumed by exaltation
afterall
