I

love is busking her wares again

lining her pockets with riffs of color
To spend

ever so lasciviously
on
the kings that sing–creating a lexicon that didn’t exist
Before

These
Coveted circles
Islands of their own currency,

I wonder if we knew each other’s lineage
whether my status would rise

Maybe
If you met my grandpa
his olive skin

His heart
Gentle from work

His life given-
A gentleman’s fedora left
Forgotten

I wonder if you met my mother her beauty
was so intense,

It kept
My father in constant astonishment
That
He was the knave of her heart

A love affair
Epic in scale
So,
Grand

In movement
In beauty
Eclipsing each other

II

It left
This peon
In her dusty boots
Wondering,
Why
Love beckons and teases
Seemingly knowing what I need

Like this
A croissant of a morning
Smiling

Telling me:

The scent of beauty we all held
Still lingers

Can’t you see the cup of you spilling over ?!

Not Icarus falling into the sun
Not Zeus bellowing at Persephone

Pounding
The endless
Assertion

We already
met
We already know

Just
This steadfast orientation

Until we acquiesce
Into each arms
Our legs AkimBO

Only because the sound of our laughter

Percussive
And deep

Will
Be
The
Only
Thing
That
Drowns

It
Al
Out.