Sometimes I sing in incomplete rhymes.
I write in crayon and leave
my shoes beside the sandbox.
I sign my letters with x and o.
I ponder in doubt, the crisscross musings
speaking out loud.
Sometimes a woman needs
flowers out of season, homegrown vegetables,
sex, and easy to read instructions.
Instead she meditates on ice cream
and the Home Shopping Channel.
Attempts to become enlightened.
Prays to paper and pen.
Looking for an all encompassing view.
Hoping for an all embracing embrace.
She offers herself to drumbeat and sage.
The rhythm under the air, turns her heart
to some inferior door, finding something buried
My cover of “Never Saw Blue Like That”
Listen to Never Saw Blue Like That by Tosha Michelle 2020 #np on #SoundCloud