a black boi/girl prays that they aren’t so black and blue in the new year,
they write the manifestation and burn it over orange blue flames.
in the evening, blue-black girl’s stomach is swollen with wine,
they sit  and think of the blue-black boi with the heavy eyelids
and the dark Pisces eyes they have been dreaming of drowning in.
day-dreaming of the warmth of their breath, short of breath,
warm mouths, shared cold showers between the two of them.

we get our start in liquid – do you remember the states of matter?
     solidliquidgasplasma
drowning in you sounds like a game of memory,
a nostalgia for beginnings, the dreams of a fontanelle filled with memories yet to already become, a yearning for something that has yet to have happen
a futurity encapsulated somewhere inside of our dna.
I want to drown in her brownness and let it saturate my
     lungsmouthnoseears.
I want to taste you on my lips when I first wake. like you fill my every inch. I want your essence to effuse from my pores, to feel like my teeth are still at your ear.

do you remember when we first found each other? my heart broke from the levees and you opened your arms. you felt like the warm stillness before the storm. you remind me of the way that the summer time humidity hangs in the air.
i’m not suffocating in it, i’m drowning.

it was three o'clock and I was
wondering what she was seeing
I closed my eyes and imagined
and the sun on my back transformed
into her phantom embrace
the sun loves us so much it
wants to be captured in our skin,
and her hair defies the rules of physics
she's magic.
we are magical because we make
the warmth of a computer screen
turn into a warm embrace,
we can speak without ever
moving our mouths and
if we dare move them it
feels like magic.

You play with the great globe of union,
you that see everyone so clearly
and cannot be seen. Even universal


intelligence gets blurry when it thinks
you may leave. You came here alone,
but you create hundreds of new worlds.



Spring is a peacock flirting with
revelation. The rose gardens flame.
Ocean enters the boat. I throw
it all away, except this love for Shams.

on the last day of the year she told me she fell in love with me.
today i told her she feels like my forever,
and that normally I am more than fine on my own,
but I freak out when I don't see her face or hear her on the phone.
she said she wants a tattoo of a quote or something aesthetically pleasing,
like a line , she says
my math teacher taught me that lines go on for forever and I want to
breathe those words on the outlines of her skin.
I call her "my wife", and that makes my soul smile.
the children of God wandered in the desert for forty years.
you are holding a reservoir of your true being,  and i am dying of thirst.
I can stare at myself in the mirror,
and look The Devil in his eye,
but looking at you is like keeping my eyes open in a sandstorm.
I want to be your Promised Land.
you have appeared behind my closed eyelids for the past few nights.
the first day I woke up and drenched myself in happiness,
the second day I dried myself off in reality.

She invested much of her time into something that, in the end, proved to be worthless and a waste of time

She didn’t know where, but she could feel herself moving away from anything that could be beneficial towards her.

She allowed her uncertainty to grasp ahold of her.

Discouraged as she was, whenever she sought, she was disappointed with what she had found.

She feels herself becoming as idle as the worn-out people she loathes.

She doesn’t know what to believe. The external world has a way of disguising too well inner turmoil.

Is it even there?

i have always thought that
i was beautiful, but i never
took it seriously until you
started looking at my skin
like it is made up of the
brown and gold paint strokes
on a Diego Riviera portrait.
you are a lovely, imperfect
conglomerate of atoms
ever changing, in my eyes
you are the big bang.
and i've always hated the
idea of becoming someone
who wishes to control the universe
but you've made me this way.