Free

Warped the way a flame dances on a thread

sometimes

makes me want to dance on top of sky scrapers

like

I am dove chocolate coated, plantain sweet.

See,

blackness in allies that scream parachutes

Hear,

fountains in centrals that harbor drunken suits

Feel,

earth in the lusting of one cricket to another

Smell,

freedom in the souls of birthed children of latin mothers.