Whore.
Give me the blues, honey
give me the challenge of the smoke
ride the richness of soul
through long-winded monologues of self
and find me the golden grace
cuz I, I have seen the difference
planted on this corner night after night
watching the cocks strut sniffing heat
decked out in all kind of fancy fine sparkle and sheen
I watch them hold all god’s colors
at the mercy of their sex
as if sex wasn’t mercy enough
oh child, you know I mean hallelujah
this corner is my church
and all my people praise me well
the side-glance purple king
trying not to want too much
he makes his offering calmly
like the last breath of sun
the fire-red, straight-on, don’t-take-no-shit looker
crimson cooker
shameless, he come to me quick
like a burst of hot bidden blood
and oooh cool green
slide over me silk
like a slow, slow scream
she
don’t need no solace sacrifice
just deep honey-tongue tastes of truth
oh I see them all
feel them all
heal them all
choking on the will of desire
I give them air
surface to the crown they lay me down
and dance a bitter dream away
and then
honey oh and then they are mine
I know you think me sad
trash
half cracker of a whore
but don’t you waste anymore
of your piss poor pity on me
I am queen
royal gold
and I hold all the keys
to god.
Woman.
I am water
woman
well of desire
I am the wanted one
both wicked and warm
form within motion
motion without bounds
I will take you in
wrap round you
cover and comfort you
with my soft silky sounds
but if you lose yourself
do not reach for me
for I will let you drown
I am the lesson
that possession
is a farce
drink me down
I will fill you up
then force my way free
washing you with me
away
from within
for I am freedom
fluid and
hard
as the ocean
soft
as the sea
wild
as the rivers
gentle
as the streams
mild
as the light over fine fields of dew
strong
as the tear that falls out of you
and cracks open the sky.
all you stony mountain tops
and rocky river fords
you think you can contain me
control me
with your hoards of earth
and oars of steel
but give me time
I will get by
you are the fool
ever rigid and blind
to my subtle twists of limb
and turns of gait
as I move straight through you
so when
finally
you step back
rise up
and look down
at the brittle ground below
you will see
it is I
who has carved you
into the shape of my name.
|
