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when I bend over
tattooed on my lower back
runes: l-o-v-e

][

[S]udden love won’t
dark jazz be heard

deadbeats in my
fingertips white

sun beaten ice
red clouds gold

threads in my sax
I can bleats on

them drums grow
wings let the keyboard

slice you down
the middle sing,

then, song of claws
tapping, rap-rap-

rap. What you need
right now is more

than just love. What
sort of outlaws did you

expect, child? I raise
one eyebrow, snort

down miasma, polish
my blue horns until

they shine. There is
beauty in jack

hammers, echoes. That’s
me in the spotlight.

That’s me. How high
the moon? My tramp

stamp scorns you
for judging. I want

risk, go bareback,
licking licks all

night and say,
“damn, that’s tight.”

][

[S]udden love won’t dark jazz be heard deadbeats
in my fingertips white sun beaten ice

red clouds gold threads in my sax I can bleats
on them drums grow wings let the keyboard slice

you down the middle sing, then, song of claws
tapping, rap-rap-rap. What you need right now

is more than just love. What sort of outlaws
did you expect, child? I raise one eyebrow,

snort down miasma, polish my blue horns
until they shine. There is beauty in jack

hammers, echoes. That’s me in the spotlight.
That’s me. How high the moon? My tramp stamp scorns

you for judging. I want risk, go bareback,
licking licks all night and say, “damn, that’s tight.”