I lost
myself
in the me's
that have clothed
me through these
30 years

How can you love "you"
knowing there are
so many?

Darling you know i love it when you play the black chords
Let them echo through the house for a long minutes time
and show me the god in your fingertips

a lover's hand you have with that percussive beat
rumble those strings with a heavy heart
give the dead ivory a taste of your lip

the ecstasy, the thrill
the trill and timbre
the infantile touch of a player's soul
strumming through that sweet sound

It is my youth, my zenith, my dying wish
my every happiness

to hear your musical singing string,
'till the very end.

Dear Whitney,


I was a thought in my mother's imagination when you were in your prime and now that I'm in mine I need you back more than I need mine. You would've known what to say when that man entered my sacred space. Can you believe they haven't figure it out yet?

Whitney you danced for you and no one else. No one could love you like you did, not even your devoted fans. You let no one call you broke and call you a crack fiend. Instead you powdered your face and continued on with your day. But baby yours isn't translucent.

Sister Houston you died when we needed you most. It was you who could lift every voice with just yours and sing for all the colors in the wind. You left me all alone before I got a chance to fall in love with your overbearing spirit. There was no room left in my body for God after I filled myself with hate.

Whitney I never learned how to love. I tried listening to the legacy you left on my iPhone and reading articles on how to be better. I been screaming for somebody's love for so **** long that I'll dance for anybody. In this story, I've become you Whitney. This is The Bodyguard now and ol' boy from Field of Dreams is coming for me. To you my love, if you build it I will always love you.

And lastly Whit, what's the afterlife really like? Is worth it? You know, leaving me behind?