rhyme for Ché

Yadira Arroyo

Bum bum dee dum.
I was walking along, cerebrum
scrambled in a humdrum
fashion while kicking rocks (for purpose)
and wearing white socks
on the bottommost part of my corpus.

You know. I was running along,
skin warmed by the sun with my hair in a bun
while the world simply spun.
And then I so sudden stopped
'cause I bumped into a boulder.
No, no, it was a man's broad shoulder
and he appeared not so older
so I felt my clit do that which my nipples do
when it gets colder.
Behold the beholder.

Shocked and distraught,
these feelings I fought.
I wanted to walk
but I was being forced to talk.
I searched in my stock
and from it couldn't concoct
a potion that would motion
the promotion of my heart.

I'm a witch and a snitch but I'm failing
to magick away my ailing,
or to even speak and seek the unveiling of my teat
that would quickly cease the sick wailing.
I fear him bailing 'cause I witness him scaling
my wee wit and weak training.
Against all others, I'm tailing!

Yes, I want his caress to halt gaunt loneliness
and then consequently, oh-so-gently grant happiness.
This is only a test and if I do my wise best
I will rise above the rest
and discard my hard role as near-sycophantic pest.
Sure, it's power I desire
but your flower tongue, I admire,
for your eloquence inspires what so evidently tires
the deep chambers of my tower
and whose rolling thunder fire
heats my soul to rose-perspire.
Humble me no more, I cower
before this self-fulfilling prophecy, so sour.