Done

Love Jones

Lorenz Tate

Whew

His saxophone

Maybe a trombone

Maybe a microphone.

Whichever,

I think we should get together

To exchange poetic letters

To share and care together

Now does this situation make you wetter?

Such a storm I know you are

Dream come true

I wished too far

Merging dimensions

My favorite era I revisited

& It was with you.

You were there

With that almond pair

Those two I so strongly hold

A stare on

The cologne he’s wearing

Smell like my favorite

To smell him coming

I feel elated.

Poetically speaking on stage

Driving his heart into rage

His life I tried to sage

But he continued to beast

Out his cage

Why this age?

& That’s the thing that triggers my curiosity

You’re exposing your true mediocrity

I thought so highly of you

But you appear too brewed in mental poverty

This experience of love

Maybe too high of a valued property

Honestly.

𝔼𝕩𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝟚 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗