Tuesday, August 31, 2010

free-style

embodiment of soul-collision
has arisen from the precision
of my mis-managed decisions,
too many times i made the booty quake
with the familiarity of a hand shake,
never thought to do it for love's sake,
but, what's love anyway, hombre?
nothing more than emotional souffle!
so don't let that admixture
become a fixture
on your dinner plate,
keep them shady ladies a la carte,
where they should've been from the start,
instead, they became the only item on the menu,
but, instead of ordering them they ordering you,
so, turn around,
affix that crown,
'tis better to be profane than profound,
and deafened by the sound
of their heart hitting the ground:
soul-collision.

~Marv

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