Where Is My Woman?
She walks down roads of diamond dust
She does what she can, does what she must
She smiles in the rain, brings books of age
She learns from herself and turns the page
Emerald dress and crown of gold
She is graceful, swift, she is clean, she is bold
Face such as glass and skin such as satin
She speaks of love, in ancient tones of Latin
Candle burns beside her bed
waves of russet hair rest upon her breast
as she, a-sleeping, shifts her head
Such a pillow blessed by gods to hold up her mind!
Sunrise waits for her permission to give the world light and vision
Voice of a harp and violin played
in such a way, HER VOICE! as night turns to day
Heavenly songbird of passionate hymns,
moonlight with sunshine connect to Truth
into her eyes where Aphrodite swims
She holds my hand as I shake and cry, as I live and lie, as I cheat and die
as I write these words delivered to no one in the fading daylight
of a room
Such a tomb!
in the womb
with a mindset of forlorn gloom
of an L.A. apartment living room
Lovely dove, hear my call
as I fall upon my mind’s slaughterhouse floors:
Floors of colors, vistas, feelings, unseen sights
Where is my woman to hold me this night?
Her name is:!
Her name is:!
Her name is:!
