There was a Somali Indian man on my mouth. He tasted like smoke and man. I wanted it to be you. Gin and apple apple mint hookah. Soft lips, paw prints, and feminine hips.
She had a tongue-ring in The first time she kissed me Of course she did It whispers her just perfectly I’m supposed to be writing about Kenya and peacebuilding But I can’t think about Kenya without remembering Her tongue-ring in my mouth It tasted like metallic possibility
I don’t want to write today. I don’t want to write my soul into words. I’m not ready to see on paper what it keeps telling me in trembles every other step I take. I don’t want to write today. I don’t want to admit to my hands they feel pain. I don’t want to … More My Black Diamond Danger (Poem 3)
I never knew I would like just lying near you Warming myself with your soul like I might a fire. I’m so used to being cold.
I touched her last night and waited for her to tell me to stop Not an “I’m not ready” stop Or an “I’m not into it” stop The kind of stop that writes I’m playing you across your skin And etches you’re not good enough into the binding of your mindSo that every page you … More Stopping at Worthless (Poem 1)