eastbaypoetics.com

his beats come up thru the caramel wood

floors// his beats slide & slither thru

the cracks in my walls// the sounds fall

over one another like water/ wetness

creeps thru the crotch of flamingo

satin/ soaking thru to jeans buttoned

at the hips/ unfasten me

from being any thing but open

© 2007 tina zaman//N.A.M.A.A.Z productions