brutality on black bodies
Even a blue dust bathed bra soaked in the sweat of my sun soaked skin bites.
Bites into tender sides
Pinches soft parts
A wire to my lung
A sternum on fire with irritation
I am bound.
Stuck in the illusion of safety – when the very things that cling to my sides could kill me at any moment
I must hide my breath and hold my heart…
A bright bird wings beating
Bashed in, time and time again
As the ways of the world claw into me.
Crack my rip cage open between the sobs that rack me
And grab grab grab my frightened bird
Always trying to dash her in the dirt.
Sometimes I think it would be easier to let her fly away.
I wish I too could join her.
Away from hands that pick
Bindings that poke
And the terror to breathe full breaths as I fly so free.
Remember when the drinks stopped pouring and I came undone?
walking home completely sober limbs pulled apart
concrete under finger nails I dug in desparation
past any point of return
dug a grave shallow so all would see my rot
What prayers were said?
who stood vigil as I returned to earth?
did you sprinkle sand and seeds over my greening grave?
Did you kiss the memory of loving me in the dark?
the softness of my skin seared into your fingertips.
How many tears were shed?
did you count and collect them all?
A quantification of a life lost…
a callous number to round out so much incomplete dreaming…
footsteps never taken
passports never stamped
but so many stolen kisses
So many words bleeding heavy over poorly bound books
purchased in the absence of real direction
unfollowed up on
without any hope of panning out
effort to what end?
now I am the bones ground away by time
the marrow that feeds worms
now I wait for the sun
Give me english unwhitened
dragged by the ancestors
melinated in mouths magic
or speak none at all
I rub your face with my sweat slick hands
Hands I sat on and rocked waiting for you to arrive.
Hands that were as cold as they were filled with anticipation.
My ass was cold through thin trousers made of cheap cotton sewed by small children.
Children with big eyes and brown skin.
Children that for a difference of a few years, looked just like me
I smelled my sweat and the cold wind hitting it just so that anyone who came near me would know … “Yes, winter sweat, that is what I am smelling.”
This intermingled with the rusty bench, cold and metal.
These scents existed in a loop my mind traveled across paying attention to each part in a sequence, over and over.
All while waiting.
Fluids fell out of me as I anticipated you.
Your feet stepping on concrete.
The feeling my eyes sent my hands as always imagining caressing your coat when I saw you before burying my hands diving past each layer.
I always sought skin.
I wanted to find where I could feel your life…pulsing and tell you with my fingertips how much I loved you.
I couldn’t with my mouth because it would scare us both but my hands could whisper truths to your spine.
I know your heart would hear.
For now, sweating and waiting.
A heart bursts open to reveal a tender moon that no chains can trap
nor hands can tuck away
No light and uncertainty to fall away from an ache that began with your being,
pressed into the backs of your eyelids
etched into bones
Desire demanding and breath revealing
through murky water that spills
into an ocean of ancestors tears
Terror follows with tides and teeth
Relief is a crumbling in cracked hands
You cannot pray the ocean away
Alive or dead, the water will drown us
Deliver our bones
Bloated and betrayed
In water where there is none
Cum on my stomach
squeeze my ankles and drown my thirsty mouth in kisses
Wrap me in your arms and squeeeezzzeeee
we breath in each other,
No fear of smothering because between lies universes of possibility.
Know this as I snake my legs around you and pull you close.
Bite your bottom lip and hold your hair fast.
We could never begin to understand, how even when we run away, we are racing towards one another.
Let me smell your skin and play with the sweat running down your back.
Lover come home.
Find your place in my heart.
To my dreamy rain lovers, thunder chasers, lightning jumpers.
To my watery mer folx.
To the dreamers and air dancers twisting in the wind.
As we cry rivers and fill oceans, fly in the night on sighs, and dream dream dream in gossamer
Your love is real.
Your tender beating heart aching for so much felt.
You are not irrational.
You are a celebration of feeling.
You are so so much.
As i wander through this city thinking, thinking, thinking, I realize a few things in part.
I run to this ideal of beauty that I feel my body betrays because I am so lonely and starving for intimacy.
Like all of us I want to be held, affirmed, loved by someone I feel connection to.
I realize though as I disocciate and fall out of panic…I am me.
Everything I often want to burn out of my brain are some of my greatest gifts.
I am lonely and human. I am a writer even if I struggle daily to write…
I am a bleeding heart sewn roughly to a sleeve of a shirt I want to tear off.
This bleeding heart is my humanity and my ability to love.
I pray to the ancestors.
I pray for my mother.
The blood I shall spill and the wrath of the mighty.
In the night I hear my destiny rush between drops.
Rain, she calls.
A river spills over my body from above.
May the world drown and the ocean swallow us whole.
May we tremble as our breath is pulled away.
Oceans, call to me.
Fathoms, reaching from fathoms.
Yemaya calls to me.