Twilight nights… Nah; Street lights… Nah, I did that before already too!
Statuettes, silhouettes and primeval contours rise in the shadows, ashes and perils parole in the darkest gallows…
(Sounds like some Harry Potter literature, haha!)
The over-tanned, roasted horizon meets the ebony hills in a near-far distance,
Resistant waterlines greet the remaining light with her sweetest perfection.
Mainland US citizens, ask if we sleep in teepees where I come from. From sun up to sun down people relax in a much different fashion But to answer their question, no we live in regular ass houses; consult Google Maps before retreating to ignorance.
Knowledge is a key!
With yall ignorant asses!
Rastaman flames burn paganism and iniquitous ways over the steep hillsides,
Thrill rides… The west indian definition exonerates ganja climbs equal to the high of frat boys @ pill time.
Old timers reference old times in parables over crop fermented wines.
Dominoes and hemp strung clothes,
Hibiscus reds closed but when the morning dew comes they blossom and glow.
steel pans play familiar rhythms in the neighboring tropical locales…
We do this as locals, we chill, relax but refer to it as cooling or liming,
Ladies of every complexion hear calypso anthems and condone in erotic, aerobic like whining (waistline movement)
The rum distilleries appear to be connected at the taps!
And its hard to see the rocky pavement under shallow lights.