Archive for 2020

honestly, you’re easy
like

i told you
“leave your city forever
and i’ll love you for just as long”

and, finally, that wasn’t too much to want

you’re easy like shy weather
i wanted to stay for you and so i did
and i didn’t know i knew how

you’re easy like four-leaf clovers, like morning dew
like not believing my luck while holding you

like holding the body of your guitar, my fingers warm
electric notes rising like hair as i play you with my tongue
your legs like spread wings amidst the angels’ choir
my teeth biting into peaches that shame even Eden’s pears

it’s blasphemous but even God would pause to stare
time standing still as you moan and swear
but like midnight prayer

and like laughter during sex
you make it easy to want more of you
and for that i love you

let me make love to you

you my shortie thursday
you got me sloppy thirsty
’cause you throw it back like

…like Zimbabwe?

nah, like

now, what’s love but a wonderful mess?

you yelling “yes, yes, yes!”
king and queen, sex like chess
sex like contests of transgressions
never-ending sessions of concessions
with breaks for food

strawberries, champagne, and cashews
you came, i came too, on you
two too many to’s turn into threes after review
but plans with your boo fell through

now we’re cuckoo in the strip club on a wednesday
me yelling “ay bay bay, ay bay bay, let’s jay!”
you already midway through your match play
already sweet and slaying like tooth decay
and the DJ sways, plays reggae for our getaway

now it’s sweat like petty cash, hair like whiplash
your breaths catch while your nails scratch
threesomes like a world wrestling match
flasks to eye masks tell of the time passed
shit! i gotta go

yes now, i was late an hour ago
i dunno, lay low or use a dildo
or hop on this metro with your afterglows

i figured i could do better than a “u up?” text
better than some eggplants with no subtext
better than me being the only one that’s direct

so here i am, textin’ you about street food
about eating eggplant tacos in your swimsuit
about your vegan views amidst servitude
oops, hang on, hold still

there’s sauce on your lips, something spicy or sweeter
my fingers enter your mouth as you pull me in deeper
you winking, me taking care like a miss demeanour

palming extra napkins, like scraps of grace
catching passion crumbs of faith
like dinner and movie and a walk to your place

like “hey, u wanna watch Breathless or Scarface?”
when all i can think about is

being too busy for subtexts and cigarettes
your thighs on my shoulders, my hands on your breasts

i was infatuated by zora neale hurston
for the longest time.

i used to think that
she was a better revolutionary
than james baldwin,
than richard wright,
than w.e.b. du bois.

because when they left america
for france and ghana
she stayed.

she stayed,
and fought,
and as her eyes watched god
she told us that,

“no hour is ever eternity,
it has its right to weep.”
so weep for an hour.

but this hour is long,
and the day’s light can’t save us.

i don’t know what to think anymore.

there’s too much pain here.

where do you go when even
paris threw copper coins at coltrane
the first time he played?