calcify me,
sweet honey dripping between bones,
igniting a fire in a chest that does not breathe anymore,
you women create sweetness on a tongue that only curses,
bring me joy in every sway of arms,
as bodies rock to the rhythm of harmonies,
every whine and grind,
every colour, jewel, earring, boot, bike,
you remind me of what should be,
jigzaw pieces matching,
sore patches of wounds found between aches and pains,
in bath tubs,
in rooms at night where photo’s reap ancient stories,
screwing of faces from yemeni french girl
the awakening of minds with lithuanian sorceress,
the opening of third eye,
to perspective,
screaming, chanting, fighting,
for hummus, buckwheat, and kingsley
for believing.
shared spiritual experience,
through words butterflying their way up to other spirits,
allowing god to look down upon his children,
breathing,
what beautiful spirits I must’ve created
these girls create a harmony on a heart that once could not accept or feel love,
flowers given to those who entranced a broken soul,
that bring joy,
give joy,
and should forever recieve joy.