Black Poetry : The Sandbox

N2urSoul

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Mar 17, 2001
3,955
1
Minneapolis, MN
Occupation
Director, Community Employment Strategies
Get out of the sand
and into my box
wipe the dust from your
hands and feet
I've got some love to share with you
is it still an open secret?

While you've been busy
making mud pies -
I've been drawing lines in
the sand...
Arnaceous sketches
tracing outlines of our
past
clearing granuls of
shattered glass from our
path... ready to
~make love to you; and
~receive love from you

... But first, you must get
out of the sand and into my box
wipe the sweat from your brow
and clean the mist from your cheeks
~removing the sandstones from
your heart by replacing them
with fine gravel (me)...

Let my soul's sweet
condensation form
tear drops of lust's higher love
on your mahogany mind
until they turn N2 hourglasses
shaking away all references
of time

Together we build CASTLES ~~

Why play in the sandbox alone
when 'us' can be found
on brown suga beaches
with Obsidian osculating
Midnight's mood until
it becomes burnt almond
and smoothes the
surface of two
backed into
one

without 'blue' impressions
but with Blak~


(c) 2001 SOULOFASISTA
 

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