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THE RETURN OF THE POET

Debra Ifill returns to outsideleft


BLACK GUITAR

My body's like a violin.
Plays Satan's song, sings Devil's sin.
Reaps groiny pains
Whines sultry grace.
As high pitch wanes
Bends each note's face.
 
My body's like a Black Guitar
I'm Nuby-sexy, Mahogany Star!
Twangs easy south through bluesy mouth.
I'll strum your soul aglow
And stroke you like arpeggio.
 
My body's like a sterling harp.
Heaven can't ignore my touch is sharp.
Their preachers hush,
Winged bodies flush,
And choirs calm.
Take breath as I thrum my psalm.

Image courtesy of Softlight Studios

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About the Author
Debra Ifill
Debra lives in New York and is the coolest (biography/all stories)

 

 

FICTION & POETRY ARCHIVE



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