buzzin'

The Fourth Dynasty lingers

I am starting to fear that Hathor is a distant relative of mine

but this is the nineties and

The Bayonne Beauties ruled by the pool.

Taking long drags off their Virginia Slims

dripping knowledge from their tongues

soaking-up as much of that dying sun the sky would allow.

They always seemed to have glamor surrounding them

even in ninety degree humidity

those ladies always left me drowning in modesty.

One of the goddesses looked up at me from under her sun hat

the Cupid’s bow of her lip was inverted when she said:

“Doomed you are sweetheart, it’s true….”

Then took her perfectly painted, acrylic-infused fingernails

brushed the hair from my face and told me to own it.

In-return,

I ran from it,

unworthy of the menat,

until the eve of my twenty-forth birthday.

As we saltarello through the realms holding hands

I love you in the sort-of-way

people don’t love each other.

It is too advanced for flesh,

beyond bone.

Such a bond doesn’t believe in time;

we are endless and of no origin.

We kiss and lilac trees are born.

It’s quite clear we left our egos on the floor.

I look into the eyes you currently own;

they always save me a dance with your soul.

When all of our karmic debt is purged,

The two of us will fuse back together and return to the ultimate.

“Humans originally were combined of four arms, four legs, and a single head made of two faces, but Zeus feared their power and split them all in half, condemning them to spending their lives searching searching for the other half to complete them.”