Who am I?
When you read that what was your answer?
To inject rules intravenously in society depraves those with no chance, A finite idea of escape must be cultivated in order to see the sun,
By Aaron Rivera (aka NABU)5 years ago in Poets
The translucent light is focused on me before my words run, Leaving my concerns to form an embryo of language I breath, Then release into the microphone to travel through wires of sound systems,
On that day, The stream you waded in reminded me of our fluidity, Like the cosmos in full bloom swaying from cool winds, As the water trickled upon your chest next to your heart,
On the crevice of my tongue sits recycled tales of you and me, From across the room, It seems you are light-years away from my touch,
Your original perfume proliferates like a stream upon my senses, The fountain that your bottom lips possess gives access to breed new life,
Downed by my reticle, There was no judge on trial, A gash waterfalling velvet liquid on blades of sharpened grass, They will ask for one more until there is no more,
Color Us Supreme, Our being tinted iridescently against the stream, This canvas bares our culture for every shade too see,
