A Diamond in the Moonlight
She looked hot!
Hot, hot-chillipepper, smokin’-hot!
. . . on a chilled ocean moonlit night. . .
She was on fire!
She glowed and sparkled and even smoked!
Flames shot out as she parked it,
Princess in her big sh*t-a*s Range-Rover-carriage,
and her big s*it-a*s “hold my f*ckin bag, you fag! I wanna get married, tude.”
She’s a diamond sparkling in the full-moon moonlight. “Yeah, I’ll carry yer bag Angel, (but only in the veiled dark like this).”
Looking into herself like so few ever do,
Waiting to hear some fairy-tale word like “marriage”; silly b*tch ought to know, being with that dude is just asking to be deceived. That to me, she’s the finest gem God ever conceived! World is her’s if she wants it, and that big sh*t-a*s moon and all the stars too!
But that moonshine couldn’t outglow those sexy-a*s kicks poppin’ yellow with every wiggle and shake-me-up step she took. Hell, the mid-day sun needs her energy to make the world go!
“Stopped by fer a ciggie,” she said,
wearing that other dude’s dumb-a*s sweater,
“irritated” but not looking all that upset,
“Other dude can kiss my a*s,” I said…but she didn’t hear it.
What do I know about this lovely lil’ Angel? Everything that matters I can see in her big blue-crystal-heaven eyes right through to her thump-beat-thumping loving lil’ heart, to her everlastingly-soft, sweet-sweet soul.
Should I tell her a story? The little boring one sitting right out there on the table? Can she see it in the dark? In me mum’s little black velvet box? Billion year old story that was written 60 years ago?
Not on this perfect, click-clacking, wiggle-waggling, yellow-moonshining night. Take a chance on another moment maybe being . . . maybe, just right.
It’s cool outside with invisible electric air floating in this brief lil’ play.
This fun little-simple-silly-sh*t-a*s-story . . .
She’s no idea what’s sitting right next to her! (in all its humble full-moon dark-light softly shining glory).
It doesn’t matter, I say to myself.
No need to bother with it right now.
The moment has passed, I’ll just let it go right now, sit here and bask in the glint of her warm spirit-light. . .
It can wait—time will come, time will go—has to be right.
Let me listen, let me enjoy an Angel’s presence and hear
This golden Angel’s voice, and behold this sweet, pretty lil’ girl’s luminescence.
As if any man has a choice;
When God’s Grace is present?
Not too many words unfold . . .
What is said just floats,
All meaning has drifted,
Like the smoke and candlelight,
Under the moonlight,
In this brief moment of a love-story untold.
A money and diamonds and fame story,
Whispered under that big sh*t-a*s full moon.
Without anything important spoken.
Everything known is there, right here beneath the moonlight.
Empty bed just inside, wide open double French door,
Candles on the table,
Soft, moist, quiet, ocean air.
Three hundred eye Q’s getting it all figured out,
What’s the hold-up?
Let go and see if love takes her there.
A quick drive-by, said she,
No real reason given.
Happy to see you, said me.
No real reason needed.
The words just flow and it’s all…all, right there.
On that softly lit table,
Can she see it?
What’s the difference?
What’s the ultimate goal?
It is alright now, cuz she’s alright…
all . . . right . . . there!
Baby! Baby! Baby!
Thanks for stopping by!
Thanks for being such a sh*t-a*s big surprise!
Editor: Brianna Bemel
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