No..this is not that kind of post.
I spin words as a manifestation of my freedom.
They are to me, what the sun is to vegetation.
They are to me what a breath is to a human.
The word is The Word breathed,
Giving life to all that it creates and bringing light to all of them.
You shine down on me at my most vulnerable moments
then you do something beautiful like call me your daughter
your daughter. A woman of the earth-you call your own
soil and dust, plucked from the rib of man
flesh. Born and bred, still you call me your own.
A fleshly vessel of insecurities and misconceptions
quick to think less of herself in every opportunity
someday I’ll learn. Maybe today.
Then like a bridegroom entering his chamber
you so radiantly lit up the room for me to see
and I saw, when I did not deserve to see.
Now we connect, we relate. You talk and I talk back
how beautiful is our chemistry.
This does not rhyme, my simple words never do.