Song on air

If I could touch the feeling between the yellow air, its pink scents, stories reaching into long afternoons, and it’s shadows:

What does it convey, of you?

Not a sweet scent, a crazy butterfly, obsidian, I realised I like bad bitches between my thighs,

Over strains of “beautiful girl”,

And if I pluck my own chord, I would play with your curls, crowned forehead,

And not care, ever again, what anyone ever said, about either me or you, sitting there, i put a Queen, on air.

Since the harvest moon and its static, a game of theirs, giving up  – fraid I cannot do,

Sometimes, girl, you come thru, sobbing water of life, an air of gloom, a terror that shines, obsidian, thru,

Playing along, I was brought home to you, how could anyone know, it’s my love song in air

A song sometimes sad like night, and triumphant as life, it’s beautiful, because to me, it doesnt matter, it was always you, and for you,

I’ll be Light, refracting into song,

As you

In your obsidian shades,

Walk above air.