NAIMA
Naima, I should perfume my letters,
confuse spices with my ink,
spirit tea from orange peels and sugar....
gal, too beautiful,
make a fool preacher
burn his Bible.
I know the lime or vinegar taste
of leaves in rain,
but I crave the criminal flavour of red
wine sick with magenta lipstick.
Naima, I shake like rain,
wanting not to want.
I'd settle for your portrait,
some static homage beautiful but --
watercolours either touch into flame
or moisture's acid consumes the images.
Naima,
I should....
Lawd, have mercy,
Lawd, have mercy, gal.
Our poetry will close
either in flames or flowers.
Naima, I should perfume my letters,
confuse spices with my ink,
spirit tea from orange peels and sugar....
gal, too beautiful,
make a fool preacher
burn his Bible.
I know the lime or vinegar taste
of leaves in rain,
but I crave the criminal flavour of red
wine sick with magenta lipstick.
Naima, I shake like rain,
wanting not to want.
I'd settle for your portrait,
some static homage beautiful but --
watercolours either touch into flame
or moisture's acid consumes the images.
Naima,
I should....
Lawd, have mercy,
Lawd, have mercy, gal.
Our poetry will close
either in flames or flowers.