The Secrets of Many
YOU’RE THE SOFTEST thing, Dear Asha,
It’s almost like a grieving, being in awe
Of your magic and getting all frantic about
It. I want to stamp my name on your heart
But all I get is borrowed pussy, which is like
A locket for the secrets of many elder tribeswomen.
Is it necessary to put a title on it? Love, love
Is what I call it! Though untidy, I’m faithful to you
And every single one of your sweet curls.