Music for Friday 

A quote and a song for this lovely Friday.

“Nothing had changed. I was the stupid one again. I was the girl who never understood who she was to people.”
-Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I’m Home

And my musical selection. Wanna slow dance? 😜 I will step on your toes. Have a listen and a wonderful weekend. ❤️ Oh, and look y’all, another pair of new eyeglasses 😮

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Fallen


It began when I transcribed
the temporal glint in his eyes
as light. Content with my
my own imaginings.

Quuck to accept my own deceit.
Hungry for a time only for desire
sliced in two.

I failed to noticed when he didn’t
take the knife
And how the sky dimmed as it gave
into longing.

The bruised fruit pulled from the branch
left to adorn the grave.
Now I collect the seeds that
remain in a mason jar

My heart painted blue.
My hands stained from
the pickings.

-Tosha Michelle

The Remains

As the leaf whirls across
the the mercurial landscape
The wind sounding like
something injured.
Don’t chase it. Let it go.
The monochrome sky
knows lost comes
with each season’s transformation
None of us spared in the end
Why fret so?
Put on your wool coat
wander in the leaves that refuse
to vacate the ground
Make this a day best remembered not
for what has gone but for
what remains

-Tosha Woody

The Chill Factor

image

I just want a corner to lie
down in.

Pull the covers over
my heart.

Let it get buried in
snow.

Somewhere underground
where the coordinates get lost

A hideout from worry and the
slow burn out of life.

My calendar whited out.
My fingers too cold to hold.
My lips too raw to kiss the end note.

And I can live in the moment
before.

A frozen vessel alone
in the stillness.

My soul encased in a thousand
miles of Arctic air.

-Tosha Michelle

Sugar


Sometimes all I can think
about is chocolate cake.
Sugar seeping into my
parietal lobe.

I run my fingers through
your blonde hair, stroke your
teeth with my tongue.

We move like batter
Clinging to each other
Stumbling around the
kitchen.
Desire in an embrace

You flutter to my
fingers, and I beg
you to give away
the recipe.

Knowing how this girl
butters to Southern charm
and blue eyes and measures
her life in spilled
flour on the floor.

Going under in a
flood of batter.
Gluttony in a three
piece suit.

I dream in dark
decadence and open
my mouth and heart
to confectionary splendor.

Happy to get lost in
frosting, strong arms
hard kisses, and oven
baked seduction.

-Tosha Michelle