Beauty is poison

Dont tell me its wrong to be beautiful
dont tell me its wrong to be soft
dont force me to compromise,or subside my roaring tide

dont punish me for being in the middle
dont say I am all things promiscuous,and vile
dont despise me for capturing others eyes

its ok to have soft skin
its ok to have deep eyes
its ok to have full lips
its ok to have hair, long
its ok to have a dancing figure

dont try to change me

dont try to put out my burning flame
youre not water,
you never were.

why cant I touch
without having to touch
why cant i look
without having to love


I am not trash, I am elegance


Why cant I just be?
Why cant I just remain
?
without a storm having to raise
and a million of moving lips,speak of rumors and hate



dont label me for the stockings on my legs
accept me,for who i am.


its ok to be sensual,
it doesnt mean I crave anothers lips
its ok to be sensual,
it doesnt mean i belong to anyone else besides you.


dont resent me,for being a woman.

love child

Young girls fascinate me..
their soft hair,
shiny strands glistening in the warm sun
undressing her with its heating rays..
down its flickering,
down
down
beating like a wild African drum
scent of flowers
images of blowing into white little puffs,held fragile on a green stem
there the particles fly,into the gentle spring breeze

young girls fascinate me
their delicate skin,
smooth and unaware
fresh, yet sensual

a forbidden fruit

tiny white babydoll tops
hung right below knee
you look so pretty in your cotton nighties,
as you play in the forest,
scrawny legs
bruised long,and pale
sharp elbows, dirty from the rough hike
and scraping against the raw forest ground
leaves,acorns and deep maroon rugged bark

little girl,
long brunette hair
shiny strands glistening in his view
undressing her with his soaking eyes
down its going
down
shes going
down
down
loving like a curious love child
in the gentle spring breeze,she loves.