Like Cherry Pie

i find places…different spaces…

tied and tangled, knotted like my Nike laces


a village underground where the songs rarely shuffle…

lyrics sound quite the same to me

but the melody…

the tune, the acoustics still bring out

a heart-felt insanity…


new experiences…not all old…not at all subdued…

more unfiltered, more unglued

a little bit of beautiful, specks of crude

sweetened awareness, shaken

by a cold-blooded brute


and i laugh and i cry…at all the contradictions

and all of the deception

drink it all down

what is bitter now, soon tastes like cherry pie

Love It (Record Player)

Record Player

I love it how you rub my hair.
Love it how you blow kisses in the air.
Slap me around. Throw me down.
I love how we play around
To the music and sound.
The treble. That bass.
I love that soothing pound.
Getting lost in you, and I clench my breath.
Letting go frightens me, and I silently detest.

Record player on repeat.
Bodies swaying to the sound track.
I take control of your hips.
You tease the steam down my pulsating back.
Pulling you in close. You whisper in my ear.
“You are not alone. I am here.”