- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Excalibur
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People love, I think. It is not about owed or due. With some. Others, this one I know is different. I'm sorry three black men punched you in the face while robbing your fanny pack. I'm sorry I did the same, minus the theft, outside the clinic where I was frequently treated. I remember you being a hell of a shot as I sat there trembling with my bow and arrows. You laughed when I jumped when you spent the six shooter and handed me the 9. Then, it became Excalibur and I wanted to lift that sword high and push it down into the ground to see how far into the Earth it could go. Gurl, it was so big. Blush. I mean the weapon. I can't forget its sleek metallic sexy all hand-gripped and forged in black. Wanting babies became shameful and ugly. You give life and therefore you kill. He was driven from us by a woman's desire.
