(GOSSAMER THREADS)

Somewhere in a tortured psyche a woman's touch exists... A ghost of its former self.
It once held so much life... A man silent sit reminiscing it's demise.
The day it died... He wishing it could come back alive.
To the people passing by he is merely a man sitting on alone on a park bench.
His ghosts surrounding him are his alone... His face is set in solid stone.
His tears internalized flood the canaverous caves of his soul... He drowning in his loneliness... He trapped in the juxtaposition.
Surrounded he remains alone... The birds sing their song.
Somewhere he is in love... Another dimension perhaps. Another planet... Another reality where her touch greets him when he returns home.
In these thoughts he finds solace for all he has here are memories... Fleeting glimpses into his past where her touch was sometimes so soft... Sometimes so hard as they clung to each other in coitus...
All he has left are these memories.
Her touch has become a ghost.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

You give me goosebumps... Not of fear but anticipation.
I'll bet you get wetter... Your petals glistening as you spread for me.
My own little freak show... You such dainty fruit.
A moment as I savor thine image... A ravaged mind coming to terms with the explicitness of thou beauty.
In your presence I seem to have acquired x-ray vision... My sense of smell heightened I am lost in they wake.
I find my phallus hanging heavy... The eye crying tears as I contemplate what I would do unto you... What you would do unto me.
The sex so incredible as I touch you in your erotic places... The feel of your skin against my fingertips... You fill the panorama of my windowpanes.
I seeking to make you wetter... Your juices dripping off my elbows as I finger you... Dropping from the hairs of my beard as I lick of thee.
Your flavor overwhelming my taste buds and sending me careening... A spaceship in freefall as it enters your atmospheres.
🔥 in the very core of my planet... Water on my surface.
You my queen... I'll bet I could make you wetter.

(I COULD'VE LOVED YOU SO)

When I was a boy I saw love... I wanted it so.
A young prince so infatuated with visions of a princess... Castle superimposed against a blue sky, white clouds suspended puffy and white.
Love however eluded me, always just out of reach... Fevered dreams.
I a boy learning that love could be such a savage thing... Fingernails bitten to the quick... Heatbeats thumping in my chest.
When I was teenager love though close never wrapped me in its embrace... So many factors that the equation never added up.
I saw love as it touched others, softly caressing them as it beat me down... So hard to love when surrounded by bricks and concrete... By the reality of living in Babylon.
Love defined by the fact that I couldn't see Christianity or unsee visions of slavery.
Graffiti images of full lips and beautiful brown eyes drawn on project walls... I alone in the steel and glass jungle.
When I became a man love in a way had become my enemy... I a man unwilling to share even an iota of my pain.
What woman could overstand the depths of my darkness... Where I came from? Where I wanted to be?
A stranger walking among the masses... Sheep wearing the skin of humans... Surrounded by so many who worshipped and prayed at the temple materialism.
Internalized tears turning into boiling water that cooked my soul.
Love leaving me wanting and wondering... Why did love have to hurt me so?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THEY THEORETICALLY DISPOSED)

One day they fell from the sky... That proverbial motherfucker they... The biblical theoretical they.
They, will make a man tired of they monkey ass shit... Nasty bitch tis a scary bitch they... All the time throwing they in your face.
Fuck that they don't even know you... Them punk ass motherfuckers I dissertate pon they...
Snakin ass heathen they... Stankin pussy bitch they.
I will go straight ballistic on they... Buss cap in the ass of they... I don't care bout they... Who the fuck is they any motherfucking way?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY