I was a rag doll— trifled, toyed, and played Whose patchworks were rended, torn, and ripped Every scraps and seams don't fit I'm a roman tapestry— stitched, sewn, and weaved Every thread is an untold story A piece of a whole new one unveiling before me


My vicious muses were clad in pastel vintage dresses today dozing in the cradle of my mind high on substance and depth as Elvis' voice soothes their frantic nerves as if it were Sunday morning and they're sucking its aurora like caramel pacifiers on their overwrought merlot lips my voluptuous heart undulates, purrs like Marilyn …