“Billie, Jasmine and The Poet”

Her name was Billie.
She made you, swayed you, into southern arms with flour on skin
That came with belly laughs and daycations.
A poet with tiny victories whose kisses tasted like buttery biscuits.
How can one not fall in love with sandy hair, ocean eyes, and sun kissed flesh
That warmed every inch of the moon-tanned lonely girl?
The Stars serve as a lover’s candle that burns twice as bright and twice as long
They never disappear or give out or give up, like so many mortal things do, they remain in
between our wet thighs and corners of lips (the places most usually neglect or forget.)
The tongue is such a divine place for Jasmine, just as the world is more marvelous with Billie
And what better chamber to keep a heart than in mine?
Where lightning strikes more than once but it never kills you, instead, it electrifies you
With more life, much like a defibrillator, leaving a painting of scars that look like the roots of a
Plant yourself in me.