Skip to main content

Bread Crumbs

I've been here before.

You can always tell
Where the shapes meet the trees
Curvatures of lines and familiarity of the bark. The moss is fresh and pointing in the direction of safety
Which way to go?
As I turn left
And forget all sense of intuition
And forgo sacred superstition
As I move on.

The dew.

Blades ripened with shadowed earth stripped of bare nakedness begging for open toes to give her a kiss
And I wish
That my path lies to the rubble in
Where no creature dared ventured in.

Imaginary breadcrumbs.

Sprinkle one here. A drip there

Don't get lost on the way to the enclosure muscled tendons tightening their grip around my waist
And soft lips kissed in darkness in the devils hour in smooth haste
With broken promises unfulfilled and signs that are visible the naked eye

Imaginary breadcrumbs

Leading me to vertical Kama Sutra positions once preserved
For the goddess that is I.

I've been here before.

Door one closes so a window opens
Break glass in case of emergency
Caged animals turned to angry bitches in corners, soul out, let her finally free to be

Wandering all day and night looking for refuge
Mommas baby/ Daddy's Maybe
Unearth a compass for her own solitude
Lay down the burdens on the horizon.

And follow

Imaginary breadcrumbs

I can't tell the forest for the trees
Step by step
Crumb by crumb
My eyes are playing tricks on me.


Type in Search Query Here

Popular posts from this blog

Exploring Poetry Styles: The Bop

Understanding Poetry: Rhyme Scheme

A Runaway Slave Writes A Handwritten Letter To His Wife of Freedom. I Hope She Got It.

Day 29: Are Skinny Women Evil? Mo'Nique Has A Book About That.