Bubbled in Latin-Glamerican: Pt. 2

My Boy,

My beautiful Boy

Threads stretch nicely across

That torso

of yours

I know you huddle over the john

to offer your health,

(like muddy puddle’ splashing

on rolled up pant legs)

Can you Fit in it My Boy?

My beautiful Boy

With the faintness of vomit on your lips

And fresh cigarette smoke

To cover up the stench

Sir Doyle and Her

Metal Click Click

Click spokes go round

On my polished new Schwinn

                 And her’s too

Fresh of the shop, in Glory

Off to celebrate wind

Metal Clink Clink

Sharp pains in crash

A tumble to gritty street

                 A stale, hot dust

Candlelit Glimpses

Burberry et’homme, mingling pheromones

Intoxicating my mind.

Watching Him belly dance nude in the mirror

Flickers of candlelight do so on his skin- too

He grins at me beneath his dark mane

Known to him, my sins I share- freely.

And hope from him- to partake.