Her locks are a swarm of black comets
streaming through ionized air. But her eyes: center
of my universe – twin suns blazing so brown
as to make brown iridescent. She makes alien
races envious. Her skin, a brown hymn. When God
made the line of her smile, Heaven broke
in two. Each eyelash, a chord bending in Muddy
Waters’ hands; each blink, a blues song; each
sidelong look, a jook joint con-
cert. Her hips, an upright bass I want
to strum. Long. & slow. With my bow, and I do
mean deeply. Her walk, a wicked bassline
only the Devil could play. Each areola, a voodoo spell
I want to chant. Her curvatures
would make geometricians jealous. An hourglass
that walks, she leaves me
I ain’t ever seen another
woman.
