'..a dark red blotch.'
That's the way I know you best..

Oh Mary,
Oh Mary,
It takes time to adjust.
Never shun your originality.
You were no virgin, but a timeless whore.
So dirty, so beautiful.
Unashamed,
your skin 
bore the colour of crimson and white.
Blood 
covered your hands in that pale night of moon.
The night that you died was the night that you bloomed.

'A curse, or a gift to be alive?,' you whispered.
'A curse, or a gift to be a woman?'

Now I sing for 'dem roots
and I sing for the pain of all women,
and I would gladly recount it to heal our scars,
but I shall never hide them,
I shall never hide that which is truly ours.

It just grows, beyond belief.
It is that sacred, I cannot even begin to try and describe or understand it, it just is,
and it is so beautiful.
Elegantly rooted,
dirty, weird, wild, wonderful;
poignant, timid, awkward.
No longer pale, but blooming with colour and light,
for she lives in 'dem 'roots, twisted underneath'
underneath 'dem vines; edged with purple mould,
and it is in the night, when she comes, alive.
It is a wave of a mystery that I ride, 
sometimes with dignity, sometimes not,
but always with intricacy,
sometimes knowing, sometimes not,
but as long as I am conscious, and as long as I stay true..

I will always crawl..'before I walk away,'

'Soon, this will be all over,' she said
Now..'get filthy, and kiss me.'

For it matters not how long it takes, or in what style..

..it's just a trip..enjoy the ride..

x