调：Ab major
Verse 1
Get uncharacteristically domestic
doing some cold white thang,
Let digital sound surround my oven lair
here where it's warm inside.
Jack Frost acting more like Robert
guiding my mind down
less traveled paths.
Something about the way
D 'Angelo crooned his voodoo
caused a 15 -year time -lapse.
Photo grows Polaroid vivid
in an instant.
Notes on radio press button
in brain replay.
Teenage girl giggles at
lunchtime.
Somebody's pretty little brown child
imitates the squeals and grinds
of like pop music royalty
and we laugh, lips part, gums flap,
freely lying about blue light basement
episodes in dark corners,
swearing we grown up
and still playing our soundtrack.
Just like that I snap back to the now
Mind again goes bye -bye.
Almost red -eye time this AM
and fingers proceeded
to dial man's number.
Surely no one knows better than he
the morning.
unfortunately long -distance
greeting.
Immediately upon hearing his voice
I begin speaking yet faintly
D
under my rambling
so I trail off after blah blah
he upped his voice to match mine baby
I miss you want you hear me there
or somewhere in between you hear me there
I was wrapped up in his word love syllables surrounding my heart
like strong arms safe and secure in this feeling.
Very warm inside.
Smell of baked chocolate
wafting through the air.
Aromas of home.
By association,
my mind roams again.
Flashes to DC kitchen.
Place where baby grand has nothing
to do with piano.
always begging tooth sweet these
and other cravings sated
by a beautiful gray -haired blue
-eyed angel
who promised to place the whole world
at the feet of her special girl.
All the magic of the universe
resided there with her,
countless hours spent
in that kitchen
baking goodies and sharing stories or frying
chicken and then my nappy hair,
with the white trim
looked like love when she tucked me
Had seen me before my birth.
That angels walked with me
here on earth.
Labeled me a blessing.
Though it was her wings in halo
I'd honestly see when I'd
finally close those eyes.
Real life rushes back in on me,
but after hanging up,
I rush to write this,
capture these images in poetry,
can reread it on some other day
when I need to remember
how it feels to be warm inside.
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