Tells

 Hot crickets lie

cool breeze on my

back and baby what 

was this and how will

you earn me back?

now I know

but maybe I don't 

be still my soul

for answers 

don't come easy

one needs time to adjust

the plot and see

are things as dark as they appear

have we stabbed innocence with a spear?

my soul, too

sits on this breeze

a change of seasons 

thrust upon us like my 

hips into yours 

I'll know all too soon

what to do 

for every curtain closed 

down the hall is a door

light always comes through

so clothe yourself well

artistry, prayers and time 

always do tell.