Because my fingers twisting my son's locks
Is the best poetry
His head sleepy between my knees
Hair wet and thick ropes down his neck
His voice heavy and rasp
We talk stories
True and wide
This is what I will forever
Hold easy
And free round my heart
Black ass poems. Black ass stories. Black ass art. Black ass life. Black ass love. Black ass hate. Black ass parenting. Black ass depression. Black ass mania. And other stuff too.
No comments:
Post a Comment