Dawn makes us watch exhausted
from rain and reconciliation
we see each other
opaque and tacit
sharing spaces
The bed becomes a bath
a place to drown
drench
drain each other
of the secrets
that we lie within
deny
cringe at their burning light
seek shelter
in each other
gingerly grazing upon necks
tasting eternity
between our teeth
desperate for incisor bites
to deliver us
from ourselves
suckle on this life
the irony of our existence
until resurrection isn't a goal
or an icon
We are that which we become
timeless
suspended beyond death
not a duality
just doing
Wednesday, September 26, 2018
Saturday, September 15, 2018
My Middle name Florence
Hurricanes and hurraches
are poor planning
We thought we'd prepared well
parked close enough
packed light
Winds don't whisper
they wail
whipping water from the sky
and thrashing it
sideways
We run
gathering wet memories
and laughter
up the corner
up the steps
and watch from the balcony
how pretty panic can be
when it's all shades of melanin
that vibrancy
running from the storm
"You can call me Flo"
I am fierce
dripping and sharp
I swell. I flood
and won't apologize
for the weights of my grandmother
her whole first name
separates what my mother saw in me
and my father's crest
I move with all 3
I understand balance
between the devil and the dance
I am the movement
the mourning
Miss me with anything less
I chose what I am called
Even Charisma listens
9 times outta ten
and smiles
in agreement
are poor planning
We thought we'd prepared well
parked close enough
packed light
Winds don't whisper
they wail
whipping water from the sky
and thrashing it
sideways
We run
gathering wet memories
and laughter
up the corner
up the steps
and watch from the balcony
how pretty panic can be
when it's all shades of melanin
that vibrancy
running from the storm
"You can call me Flo"
I am fierce
dripping and sharp
I swell. I flood
and won't apologize
for the weights of my grandmother
her whole first name
separates what my mother saw in me
and my father's crest
I move with all 3
I understand balance
between the devil and the dance
I am the movement
the mourning
Miss me with anything less
I chose what I am called
Even Charisma listens
9 times outta ten
and smiles
in agreement
Sunday, September 2, 2018
Mankind is an Oxymoron
We are parked
manicured green and curated just so
we don't hear the rumbling bones
beneath us
weep
exasperated with erasure
poured out in libations
our ancestors are the door
not the gatekeepers
or the opening ceremony
But my protest is swallowed
and spit out of six foot speakers
diluted like overpriced lemonade
that we have to drink
because water
is lead out of fountains
contaminated
through century old construction
never meant to water
these souls
these 2 sets of lips
gingerly declaring a kiss
in public
is the blackest thing
we can do
Gawdis here
with Black Charisma
we are all that
oxymoron and
mankind
manicured green and curated just so
we don't hear the rumbling bones
beneath us
weep
exasperated with erasure
poured out in libations
our ancestors are the door
not the gatekeepers
or the opening ceremony
But my protest is swallowed
and spit out of six foot speakers
diluted like overpriced lemonade
that we have to drink
because water
is lead out of fountains
contaminated
through century old construction
never meant to water
these souls
these 2 sets of lips
gingerly declaring a kiss
in public
is the blackest thing
we can do
Gawdis here
with Black Charisma
we are all that
oxymoron and
mankind
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