donate to ya boy

Thursday, July 28, 2011


I wonder if she thinks of me when the sun is warm
the morning fresh on this side of the world
Ive tried to describe her,
I barely talk anymore.
Its sweet I assume to feel this good about the smile of a godess
a day and a half away across two diffrent timezones
in a midwestern junction of hussle and ghosts
while im blowing kisses towards digital notes
in this sauna of a pacific coast.
I toast to her love in my steps and my words
all the pretty women I come in contact know theres some one interfereing
they can hear it in my laughter
see it in my thougts.
my moment of zen is when I close my eyes and the outlines swirl into her smile
dripping out to her features
her eyes deep shades of purple,peppered with green and glitter
that reflect the smooth outlines of her cheekbones,with the sun melting her golden hair to her perfect lips as she brushes it aside while her bracelets click
wiggle and jingles as her laughter seems to cloud and surround the entire afterglow
of the one too many mornings
...I doubt anyone has any idea whats in store,
I barely know...

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