"Harriet Tubman" (2/30)

I spell my thoughts with the letters of ancestry
Creating scriptures of the stories they lived thru
Underground railroads that lead to...a star
That I use to paint pictures, of lynched sisters
and for them I share this vision..

"Lips" (1/30)

I see them
When words roll off of them like spanish lingo,
wetter than pacific and to be a little more specific
I'm a dope fein for the love that rests beneath each pigment
and when the tongue kisses them...

I love to listen to them,
but more the voice that they carry from point a to point me
So that I can imagine how they move when the voices speak
Imagining the difference in them, darker and lighter shades
artistic, forms made by creators I admire them
I desire them, they light fires in me that only they can estinguish
and for them I will burn eternally to be eternally, kissed

As they glisten, I envision
a connection but with permission
To put pieces of the puzzle together creating images
The stroke to my paintbrush and that creates beautiful pictures
But not even a world known photographer can get a glimpse of this
this is sacred so it is meant, this is cherished but it is spent,
this is oxymorons so comparisons are opposite,
attractions to apparent-ness will hv the others staring,
but I am glaring at this star, so I wanna make a wish
Star light, star bright this form of beauty is heaven sent
Oh father what a delight to be serenaded by his, lips...