The tension between

I am me and you are you --


is released in bed.

each day i reach your door
like a wet rag with a pulse.
heartbeat ticking,
hand hammering.

here’s your pills—
stabby, pretty, blue.
my fingerprints turn into bruises;
i forget my name.

shattered feet.
socks from last week.
air tastes like floor tiles.

i think the pill looked at me first.

you never ask what’s in it,
only if i still want you to take it.
your eyes orbit my pearl earring
like satellites.

bourgeois flaws taste better imported.
“jolie laide,”
tattooed where your heart should be.

you once told me:
i love ugly things, they last longer.
i mailed my neck to your ancestors.
no return address,
no name, no guilt.

pupil to pupil—
will you know
you never knew.

hope dies once
in a bag of dollars,
hollow with pennies.

you swallow orders like gospel.
who gave you empty vessels?

i bit the pill of idiots in half,
wore it as lipstick,
kissed your ego
until it foamed.

i leave the door ajar for ghosts;
they smelled like your cologne.

once,
you called me
your softest affair.

pill quartered.
earring taken.
no knocking.

goliath shadows hover,
even in the walls.
this one licked the floor
where your heart used to be.

coiling the summit
of your heart,
gisting my heels
engraved on the floor i missed.

your name clogs my throat
like i deepthroated grief.

i stitched my eye shut
to stop seeing you.

still,
visions came
through my teeth.

i licked
daily,
tender storms
into silent lakes.

my white crayon
wrote you a letter
in the middle of rain:

be peace,
and if not peace,
a a pale spill
that remembers me.

In the kitchen, you put
some water on, set out cups
the kettle sings, the tea smells
and I look around, stroking
the velvet of the couch

thinking of the smooth sheet
on your bed, of the softness
of your mattress and my body
stretched out on it
naked as my hand

If only it doesn't happen
that you fall in love with me
and we let yourself go
in feelings that
will end our friendship

We've known each other for a long time
You know who I am
when you come into me
to be, to be
my home

The way you move your hips
To the rhythm we’ve created
As the lips slide across one another
****, you so ******’ wet
To the way I push down on ya pelvis
My otha lips French kissin’
Our tongues rubbing, caressin’ ... vertically sometimes a horizontal movement
All while your juices run into mine ....
The rhythm we’ve created is mixing the two
Creating this ******’ mess we call ecstasy
The most wettest, slipperiest, sweet as nectar comes
The perfect consistency to slurp
Just to allow a little to drip so that it can be twirled and played with
It’s called sprung juice.... THA ******* GOING type juice... The “I promise to always...” juice.... That I’m not and don’t ******* play when it comes to you no matter who it is!! Tha ****!
The feeling makes my limbs go numb
Creates this pulsating wavy feeling
I’m weak, your panting and we’re in total bliss
Too sensitive to touch
Too sensitive and exhausted to move
“Just let me lay here” I tell you
The supernova we created was so intense
We can only hold hands while we fall asleep
Wishing to dream of what just took place
I’ve met my match
I have the intimacy piece that was missing
It was you, My ******’ Dawg 🤞🏽💕

Timeless afternoon
Postponing chores
Putting paperwork away
Going to bed with you

My heart is in my belly
exactly where I explode
with you - firework sparks
and sweet languor in every cell

My body completely
touched by the magic
spell of hormonal love
still shiny

with attention and sweat
every spot awakened and treated
dozily omnipresent
in your closeness

It was ever your voice, always
That voice,
Soft and gentle, a trickle of freshness
In a dead place,
Soothing as the bag balm Mother
Smoothed on wounded calf legs.
That voice, your voice,
Without words,
even while speaking other words,
Always said to me
I won’t judge you,
I could even love you,
I see you, yes you.

YET

You seemed much to hide,
Holding your schedule askew
From others, which
I often wondered of, yet
Even standing nights before
Your door,
My heart found no Faith
That you lived in love of solitude.
For I, I lived hating my solitude,
A solitude of loneliness.

Thank you sweet Andrea,
For bringing me that saving voice,
For giving me your soft hand.
It felt so right in my hand.
I heard your stories with gratitude.

I see you Andrea, I do.
I see you.
I feel I could love you.
Let me try.

Lovers in the bus,

I don't want to look, but I --


see it anyway.

Daily,
New hopes are born,
Old hopes rooted—or uprooted.
Time keeps moving,
The world is noisy,
Everything calls loudly-
Except His presence.

We are more than flesh,
We are spirit—
Like devices thirsting for power,
So our souls thirst for Him.
Electricity fuels machines,
But the Holy Spirit fuels men.

Many are alive,
Yet already dead,
Walking ghosts,
Dim lights
Extinguished by the slightest breeze.

But those who dwell in Christ—
Ah, from afar their fragrance calls!
Their peace is deep,
Their faith is envious,
Their joy a hymn to behold.

Stepping in,
They bring His presence with them.
To some, He is reality;
To others, an abomination.
To few, a visited place;
But to His own,
He is home.

Sweet as honey,
Comforting as rest,
An unexplainable power
Draws them deeper, deeper still.
He knows His own.
He cares for His beloved.

to me,
words mattered
more than acts.
you could pull me close
with a single sentence.
the right phrase,
muttered ever so soft,
could mend
what a kiss could not.

my mind doesn’t care
for big gestures.
they don’t keep me
up at night.
the way you said,
i’ve never had
a real conversation
with her
the way we have,
however, might.