someday when

i am no more

i want my works

to wear a tuxedo or prada,

get a first class ticket

and travel all the

way to the caribbean

for a vacation

making love to her

taste buds with a

glass of  margarita

i want her

whoever she will be

to stretch her legs in

the sunshine and give

herself away to the

breeze to cuddle her skin

whether she is

escaping the chaos

of the world to find

rest for her soul

or she just turned forty

and slipped into midlife crisis

or she is on a romantic

trip to spend time

with the love of her life

i want her to pause

at a page i wrote something

that fiercely resonate

with her heartbeat and

scream a long damn!!!

and i swear my dry bones

will hear her

and i will be quickened

beneath the rocks

where i was buried

and come to kiss her

face like god

because i won’t

be known as

just a writer but

as a thunderstorm

not easily tamed or controlled

with so much effort

i will leave behind

words that will show

anybody how

to reveal

the nakedness

of themselves

until they become

comfortable enough

to want to reveal even more



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