Its bare on my chest

exposed with emotions

I make words

take flesh

and march on

they stand proud and invisible

like thoughts

and as sinister as sycophants

your in my whirlwind

and its time i take you in

to seek shelter from the storm

to be dry and warm

like a good martini

and sometimes we get three chances

and sometimes it only two

I make corrections

on my imperfections

and this is me

being you

honest and true

or at least thats how

I’m thinking about it

its a roof top

and I’m shouting

to all the small voices down below

while its a miracle

how ears work

the faintest of sounds

like the sound of milling

with mortar and pestle

When I was known as

El Corazon

When i walked

everywhere

with an umbrella

I would say

there’ll be rain

There’ll be rain

and they the real storms never came

when there was rain

i never took much notice

I had an umbrella over my head

for most of the weather

lighting bolts hit me from time to time

but I don’t seem to mind

They might get me for good next time

with out an umbrella

and there might never be real rain

though i see impression of it

I am glad I came for the walk

it was nice to talk

interesting to observe

and possible a pleasure

for all things outside

my umbrella