untitled
je te veux
mai
je ne dit pas
“je te veux”
avec ma bouche
parce que
ma tête
comprend
les consequences
et puis,
je ne te parle pas
oui,
c’est vrai,
je ne suis pas tout seul.
dear mr. president
fighting patriarchy
uphill
to reaffirm
a new patriarchy,
downhill,
where rights are granted
to destroy equality
waking the dream
to a nightmare
and the men in
their camoflauge
march two-by-two
to destroy the work of women
two-by-four-by-eight (sideways)
and this patriarchy saves all
because that patriarchy kills all
ignoring immolation
squinting against the bright light
of bodies burning,
a feminine holocaust.
we done good here.
we’ve saved lives here.
i’m sorry,
but she’s my sister;
i’m sorry,
but this is your choice:
not ours.
the women will be free.
the women will have rights.
this curse will begin
in society as ours did
where women oppress women
as freedom becomes a curse of insecurity
what a beautiful, beautiful
world where we no longer use the guillotines
to deter.
sweatblood
two surrounded by silence
only grasping for conversation
in the awkwardness that lies around
us, your face seems to loosen
with each burning sip
and i’m wanting to find the reason
for this escape
why, why, why, why, why, why
when all there was was you and i.
the truth falls like an unfinished shot
to the bottom of a too small glass
it was never about singularity
among people we call it solidarity
it was always the two of us
and so much history i could choke
on the words of one thousand gettysburg addresses
words, just, sparking freedom for so many groups
but never you and i, the individuals
so forgotten
i see my blood, sweat, tears
blend together into one drop
falling so somberly to its doom
in your glass or on my table.
hope, love, and living were all only afterthoughts.
i hope he crushes your lungs
you made no exceptions
to your lists,
upon list
upon list
upon list
so repetitive, aren’t we?
aren’t we?
and when he found light
at your feet
on your doorstep
you were swooning
as the smoke poured from his mouth
you found yourself accepting
&
excepting.
i wonder,
years later,
has his love let you down?
a blessing; a curse
the rivulets
weaving patterns around our bodies
and where the water rests on my skin
you see only you
and i see only you
where the water rests between us
you and i collide
and we become one
we become you
until all i have is my voice
and your words,
this is what i mean when i say love.
after all (this rain)
in the silence,
i wait for a whisper
from a friend
a lover
a mother
a daughter
a woman
no, no, no
i wait for a girl
this is why i am mistaken.
as the rain becomes the only sound i hear,
you scream for me
an enfant
an orator
a poet
an artist
a metaphor
a simile
yes, yes, yes
you scream for me or someone like me
this is why you are mistaken.
as the water floods these tunnels,
our eyes fill with the inescapable
this watery reality.
this is why we are all just alone.
the ocean falling like bombs
behind these waves of gratitude
and kindness i remember your face
all those harsh words we exchanged
my twisting, unbelieving expression
as i realized my feelings were false
and felt for higher ground.
i found this peace,
in our warm embrace
realizing then, i’d been longing
to be understood
or to understand
all we are is human
with no borders
or boundaries
when our love hits
a wall
it won’t make an echo.
i, realize.
skin serves the purpose of a shell
our bodies rise and fall
in this vicious
convexing and concaving
waxing and waning
cycle where our skin
seems to burn
seems to melt
becomes: one.
my thumb is like putty
washing into your skin
and oh the scars.
the light washes
sepia
over us
like a photograph,
capturing a forgotten memory
of lovers
from when war was fair.
i am the wondering
i am the wanderer
i am the forgotten
i am the framed,
then the frameless
yet,
i am not blameless
we were something beautiful
something in between
our lapses
like blackouts
help us tear ourselves apart
when we blend
together.