Our people’s lips

piccolo at canting birds,

spit kisses into hands

then pitch,

awaiting swift receipt.

 

Lips, appended

by earthmud eyes,

sovereign brows,

lend silent discourse

'bout life

upon the street.

 

Groomed to smooch us

in her mother’s arms,

ma's deep doe eyes,

smile still stretching miles,

prepped seminal

bonds.

 

Auntie Lala’s

tawny yawn-hems

limning chicklet pearls,

loose banshee shrieks

from amathystene Harley

steed

at predators

for our safety’s sake.

Black holes, nebulae

her high mind points of view.

 

Her word-gates linger

as do riverbanks

when water flow is cut.