I tried to find you in books and under cups of coffee;
I tried to find you outside my window and walls bare and empty.
I tried to find you in the depths of stories about defiant lovers and loveless monks;
I tried to find you in the cacophony of honks.
I tried to look for you as Spring rolled by;
And returned empty-handed at the end of July.
I tried searching for you on the loneliest shores lapped up by the sea;
And under the bower of placid trees.
To put it mildly,
I looked for you in every nook and cranny.
But while I was on a manhunt for you;
You swept past me like the loo.

Like a glass falling
I will shatter into a thousand tiny shards,
Cutting and grazing the skin I hate most.

Like the time we cast away,
I too will disappear and fade away.
No one noticing that it could have been worth something...

Like the ocean on a stormy night
My ship sets sail into the dark abyss
And I pray I do not return from this journey.

Like the mountains that crumble, the ground that trembles,
I am just as unstable...
Do not tell me your lies...

Just like this world, I will die out from hate...

Tell me what you had for dinner and what you and your mom debated about across the table.
Tell me how every time she cooks alone you wonder what your dad would look like with his hands across her hips
like he used to do when they were in love.
Tell me how you don’t believe in love anymore.
Tell me how everything that is whole can be torn apart.
How you have transformed yourself from a plain block into a Rubix cube emerging from the perpetual change in your life.
How the colours no longer match on any side
no matter how many times you try to turn things around
You don’t know what to believe in
anymore.
Tell me you believe in her.
Tell me how hard it is to stay together and how hard it is to stay apart.
Tell me how you hate sleeping with someone beside you but you hugged her tightly in the middle of the night because even in your dreams you were scared to lose her.
Lately her side of the bed has only had your shadows surrounding it.
They wonder if she’ll be back or if they should change their address to your bed frame and tell the mail man to forward any letters meant for her to an address where the only kisses that wake her up are the ones that nameless men use to thank her for the night before.
The ones
That’s the thing about the calm after the storm, is it happiness or just relief.

Two sighs and we capsize
Into shallow water beneath our thighs
Tossing, turning, tangled limbs
Your parted mouth and passionate cries

March is Saint Patrick’s Day and Green
March is still cold outside
March is trees
March is before April
March is springtime and tornadoes
March is in like a lion out like a lamb
And in like a lamb and out like a lion
March is rain and rainbows and sunshine
March is flowers
March is Black Women History Month
This is March

You are a spectrum of danger,
thrown out on the battle field,
a molecular dark riding ranger,
and it's not like a fire,
or a sword that you weild,

A molecular biology occurring in dark,
I,
I can't think in this way,
a bonding of agents-
to fuse from a spark,
creating raw chemistry,
it's why I want you to stay,

Microelectronicmechanical bits spawn,
under such dangerous conditions,
I eagerly anticipate the coming of dawn,
my knees fall weak again,
as you break down more inhibitions,

Sweetly I just can't resist,
despite all the effort I give,
I tip my neck back - as I enlist,
and relish the moment occurring,
an still I hope that I'll live,

No way to fight in this passion,
no one else to come rescue me,
been too long with a ration,
a twinge of unhinged desire,
I close my eyes,
adjusting to see,

It's a magnetism in chemical vibration,
from lack of sweet frequency to come,
an even from deep satiation,
I inhale a last - b r e a t h,
as all my defenses- undone,

I open my eyes an you're gone again,
along with the shining of sun,

As I lay covered - head to toe
in your weaponized Smartdust.

Ma Cherie © 2017

He called me a chameleon once.
The words fell like sweet thick honey that matched his sandy blonde hair.
It fell just over his eyes. I had to duck and search to meet his gaze.
He told me that I acted like a mother to one, and a daughter to another.
He told me that he had yet to figure out my true colours.

I only smiled.

He studied me carefully everyday afterwards.
Peering, leering, examining every last breath that left my lips.
I chuckled, and allowed it, knowing he could spend his life dedicated to studying me yet never find the answer he was looking for.
A chameleon can only blend in with what surrounds them,
fire, blue skies, dark blizzards, animated companions.

A chameleon can never see the colour of its own skin, because it's too busy trying to match everyone else.