Friday, 22 February 2019

Hey Negrita

Hey Negrita

I say: let's shoot Katara, beautiful face.
You say, roll it Katara, set dress this place.
Heat it hits us, break beat tattoo,
heat back slaps us, swoon in tune.

Jump cut removes us, from certain ruin
to touch and greet us, on desert dune
sand that salts us, cross cuts your back
and what we don’t lack, we can never lack.

Pepper tilts us, hot tongued goodbyes,
then oh Katara, wild months they fly.
Winds they reel us, memories smack,
winds they whip us, face front wink back

kites we flutter, shimmer tasteless tack
tatter tassels and sticky tinted matte.
Fig peel your plunder, oh no maƱana,
close up suck banana, oh yes, Katara.

Surf it swells us, glissando aftermath
full shot it guessed us and telegraphed.
Reel and swooned us, posed photographs
dance loud and joyous, ecstatic in laugh.

Ever green yet darken us, never can we break,
every night we parley, we talk too late,
singsong together, parting petaled flowers
swish pan whisk, freeze-frame strip showers.

Text slow emotion, table top insertion,
unscripted murmurs, of some sex desertion,
still we send us, our pictures frappe,
but clapper-board cut and fade to latte.

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