on love: brooklyn boys got that good grind/give a shit about a girl’s mind/don’t drink her shine like red, red wine

dear readers,

whew! im in the midst of writing final papers, the stress is creeping into my arms and neck, even though im being diligent about swimming and doing yoga. sigh. a fantastic addition to my life though has come in the form of an almost impossible new lover.

he says i got angel eyes/but i think he lies/that smile on him make lucifer morph back to gabriel/im telling you/he make me feel sky high. we were on the rooftops the other night/trying not to drip down the brick walls of our hearts/he don’t be reading this but what if he starts. pressed against the ledge and then the train rode by/how come my thigh raise high/why we kiss so fly/papi could be my ammunition/premonition were you so wrong/fuck a girl on a hook/care about her life’s song. dudes will always try to number two you/so make up your mind to number one yourself/keep your shine stealth/cuz they hungry for an escape/forget you a woman of spiritual wealth.

now im a grown woman, but me and my homegirl took a nighttime bike ride down to coney island last night, checked out the fire over by the thunderbolt ride, ran pellmell to the water’s edge, and spun wind rippled sand tales about friendship and love. she told me she was so fond of me. i told her sorry for letting fear cloud my vision of our friendship. fear can be such a jerk. she and i, we kept on riding.

another day another dollar
that bp oil spill make me wanna holler
no fair war is forever
ocean’s of the world
we need you
please, somehow keep your shit together

stay tuned for more,
roopa

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