writin' and whatnot

Son to Mother

When your skin can kiss the sunand your smile can crack the sky and your walk is made to stun every normal human eye

and your laugh can dim the moon struggle-magic in your dance and your voice can serve as tune for both riot and romance

When you're born as heaven's sake with God nesting in your hair When you're born too strong to break When you're born too cool to care I ask you what difference would it make if we had some crystal stair?