The tone of my phone
talks gently in
cowboy's rhyme
and as I am lain
on my ma's Abel's
bed's n' has my breasts be bare
my legs be bare but
my boxer be being there
I am lone with everyone
Peeping through the dirt-reeked
netted windows
and even the windows be
coloured into earth too
and the tone of my phone too touched NEXT
changed to RAP on bass phone
then a lad walked by
Thoughts tried me to look
from this distance
where her sight should never sight mine
But as much as I'd adduced:
she would not turn back
aye she turned back and looked
but briefly but
she turned
she looked
got me booked
What was wished
life'd morph at times
at times she 'pretence' and let be.
Mystic life this is; where
impossible can be
Possibility mayn't 'gree.
