In the end the sky was
an enigma to myself...
I watched you -
a heart of bereft love...
It's apparent our tide is moving
in big waves of opportunity...
Locked Manacles
Residue of lies fill my lungs...
The more I want you to forsake
this paper...
Amidst these stolen glances,
our hearts whisper lust...
The air smells of honeysuckle,
it's almost too sweet to breathe...
Strip me of my color,
and no longer will I be judged...
It's getting time
for me to take...
Connie Marie Underwood
Born into a world of wonder Aug 7th 1993...
You're far away, high in the light
your eyes sex-clenched as your notes start...
I am
all that I speak of...