law of attraction

a bored licorice,  heart pierced with candy poppers, i sit

cross-legged, ready to engulf my present, demagnetized, whilst

my stellas tastes sour from your eye bats and your Obamas and her

blotches of tanzanian black, a kiss so masculine it stuck to my rattan dresser while

i cringed

in the middle of lovers painting happiness

and william handed me a painting from africa –  so sure

that it will stratch through my lotioned skin – give is a squeak


sitting on my chest like a rubberboat dummy sailing to singapore

to purify my smoked-filled pipes and to launch

the rocket mark, my brother, promised me to have – straight to your summer forever

as my tears here become an improvisation of positive energies

promising itself not to be invaded –  but i am a canvass, you know

and i am asking you

to spray me the most corruptible color

so i can walk ahead and worship The Secret.


About this entry