an (un)eventful night.
woman one
made a mental list of all the lies she’s ever told.
woman two
in an effort to remember touch
purposefully reached for a hot iron
from the wrong end.
woman three
sleep-walked.
there are scratch marks along the wall
in the the hallway
where she dragged her fingernails
whispering
’habibi, habibi, where are you?‘
s.s.
hard
fearless
warrior
gangster
you wear that armour with pride, don’t you?
never mind pain. keep moving.
never mind pain. keep moving.
look at this mud, look at my scars, look at how i move you say.
truth will find you
hunt you
drag you
bend you
with her merciless grip.
do not guard hurt.
even hidden from light,
these things grow
like weeds.
s.s.
shadi reminds me that human beings are comprised mostly of water.
i say it aloud: we. are. water.
i imagine my body as the ocean
hips propel movement
waves gather
rise up
climb rib cage extend
foam hands that
colonize throat
heart bobs like a stubborn ship
avoiding whirlpool fate
as my entire being is
pulled like a marionette
by the loving moon.
s.s.
the first time she visited
it was a spring afternoon, not quite dusk
the air humid and sweet
sky clear.
an easy southern breeze tickled the mulberries,
creating a flurry of applause from the leaves
a thick layer of pollen covered everything from her mama’s boots
to the yellow carpeted cars that lined the street.
he made two cups of instant coffee (she watched him fumble)
then they strolled around the block
slow like molasses.
she remembers the way his long hands
held that porcelain
desperately wishing for him to cradle her
that way.
s.s.
-the freckle on the inside of her right palm
-the soft way she rolls her rrr’s
-how her shoulders move when he speaks to her
s.s.
a freewrite using the lyric the sun is in your hands, player from bilal’s sometimes
the sun is in your hands, player.
yellow
ripe
full.
sometimes bashful
sometimes brazen
long fingers
orbiting sphere
ushering dusk
with the tilt
of a palm
i am the light you hold.
s.s.
a freewrite inspired by ms. badu’s lyric:
i’m a recovering undercover over lover / recovering from a love i can’t get over
i.
these
lips bruise(d)
elbows bruise(d)
spine aches with memory.
my body covered in constellations,
& we the stars.
i’m a recovering undercover over lover / recovering from a love i can’t get over
ii.
his neck,
smells like home.
collar bones stand proud
like the mast of a great sea vessel
his breath a calm tide.
that voice travelled lifetimes to get to my ear
across the delta,
over ocean,
it tastes like salt wind in my mouth.
i’m a recovering undercover over lover / recovering from a love i can’t get over
iii.
i choose leaving.
walk away,
like a waterfall.
wishing my hands were in your hair,
mapping your face.
the wind splits direction
its coldest tail follows me home,
scent fills me with cloud.
i lay down
concrete breathes blue against my cheek
cobblestones form an armor as
my heart beats
in time with the city.
s.s.
