With her words she grabbed my hands.
Latched onto me as if
Without one of us
We would waste away and float forever.
Dust to dust.
But sometime later,
She threw me into space.
Though sometime soon,
When I plummet back
I will not hit.
I’ll miss the dirt.
Kiss the dirt.
And grab some paper,
Use them as wings.
(Source: poet-a)
I often dream of you,
Forehead to forehead, chest to chest, hip to hip.
Your breath shuttling over my body again,
Like it was trying to get somewhere.
Afterward, you hovered over me-
Every part of you pressing into me.
Heavy enough as to let us know you’re there.
Light enough as not to crush me.
My hands ran over your back,
And in the most astonished crevasse of my mind,
Pretended that they stained you a muted black.
I made it a point to touch every part of you.
So now, as I lay in my sheets,
Imagining the scent of us,
I pretend that you are here.
Camouflaged in the darkness
With your stained black skin.
Hovering over me-
Heavy enough as to let me know you’re there.
Light enough as not to crush me.
(Source: poet-a)
Kiss the thorns
And you may bleed
Kiss the rose
And it may die
Kiss the stem
And we will rise
Kiss the dirt
And none will cry
5.6.12
