Adriane Hunt Biography

So you loved me all along
You tell me with words after you’re gone
Separate lives, lovers
Bored entertaining “the others”
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fill emptiness with wholeness
black hole depart
search deep, missing feeling
heart aches, left void
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african-american
is politically correct
how far have we come
grandpa still says colored
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As I glance over the tree tops
The balcony nauseates me
Moving clouds, crisp, hypnotic
With traces of grey
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With every breath you breathe
my heart sings melodically for you
I know what I feel inside
I wait patiently till your mouth can
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