Baye,
I bring so so much love to give!
‘Child,” he says, “You’ve never learned how to live
Love does entice
(curvaceous thighs
bodacious lies)
Those without care to save their heads–
Only they break fast on Love’s bread.’
I have a song to sing
Mustn’t I give what I bring?
‘Wait for her; the time for singing’s not come.
Not yet’, says Baye. ‘I know when I see the One.’
(vivacious eyes
blinding the wise)
Baye, your mercy–tell me her name at least
I’m weak; this heart won’t stay in my chest.
“God smite me,” says he, “Should I unveil her name.
Just follow my hints through to live in love’s game.
Picker of Locks,
Wrapper of Gifts,
Trumpet of Truth,
She’s Lightning’s First Kiss
It’s wonderful to love in the abstract, no?’
Baye,
‘Man.
This is enough:
You do not own.’
