Six

My heart...around my neck

I guess it all just added up...

Two people talking four weeks,

mathematically, six makes sense.

Numerologically too...

Birthdays read the same - 

4+1+1 = 6

1+2+3+0 = 6

Meant to be? 

Who knows...

Looking for shit like this is what you do

when you want to believe it's not for nothing.

And, just maybe, you matter more than a knot in the pants...

he than a tickle below.

I kind of thought it might happen,

even desired the release of two, 

the decrease of two,

creating something new.

If only a memory.

Adding one more to the other five,

a fulfilling one...a fulfilling start...

(...too scared to say more. Move on...)

A new hand...

rubbing my back and below,

seemingly in admiration.

(That felt good.)

Five fingers on one breast,

working as a team.

Two arms holding him, four limbs intertwined,

I should have known we would six.

But I was still surprised when I heard the wrapper

crumple without another sound.

And then the math stopped...

No more logic,

Everything was open

for interpretation

No words, really.

Forward motion

(and backward)

until words weren't necessary.

Mirror Mirror

She wears her heart

on a chain

around her neck.

That's brave...

The leading lady in my life,

so I try to make her day

EVERYDAY.

She says, "No man ever gave me that.

Never smiled at me in the morning, 

Like you do."

I tell her, "Drowning men looking for rowboats 

don't think yachts will be sent their way.

So they wait for the rowboats, 

even when a yacht is in view.

That's all they expect."

She says, "Girl...where do you get this stuff?"

I say, "You inspire me. I want to give to you 

what you give to others."

That's the truth...

our morning bathroom ritual.

She stares back at me,

we re-connect,

become one to face the world.

The "S"ituation

(Sometimes...) we

substitute one poison for another;

call it "sacrifice."

Swap one set of behaviors for another

(completely);

call it a "shift."

Sabotage and sink ourselves

(with the best intentions);

call it "self-preservation."

Not stupid.

simply scattered,

scrambling for speedy solutions,

scared of stagnation.

Ironically, still stuck...

(Shit...)

So sad when that happens.

Sack the possibilities of change,

snuggle with the security of doubt,

sleep with the fear,

so sure it's better than the bedfellow we don't know.

Send away the sincere sentiment of another,

save the effort for the same shit that hurt us.

Slide the shiny sought-after on the safe bet;

serve the rest "sorries."

(Sigh...)

Same stories time and again.

Somehow, we convince ourselves

we're so special, 

significant even,

for our suffering.

We long to be survivors

and shed tears for some

superficial stand.
Such martyrs we are...
falling on our samurai swords.
Something to live for, I guess...

Silver linings soon to come, we hope...
(Smile...)

something at the end of the rainbow
at the end of the storm,
at the end of it all,
to compensate for all the
sacrifices...
(that were really only substitutions.)

Midnight Maurading

My "dancing" shoes...

The undeniable sound of "Mystic Brew" begins,

Not J. Cole's sample,

but my greatest love for 20 years.

Honey check it out, 

you got me mesmerized...

And the DJ remembers,

asks the crowd, "Do you remember where you were

20 years ago, when this album dropped?"

I do...eighth grade.

I let myself return, and gave in
to the feeling I had when that song grabbed me

and told me I was that girl.

Wit your black hair 

and your fat ass thighs...

Did my two-step and was feelin' good,

til I remembered Dwele saying, 

"It takes two to tango." 

Hmmm...

And, evidently, only one to two-step.

Street poetry is my every day,

but you I gotta stop when you drop my way...

Still in the music with my eyes closed,

I went back a few hours

and remembered my parents' anniversary dinner.

I sat across from an empty chair another year.

The fifth wheel...

If I was workin' at the club,

you would not pay...

...and three hours later I'm two-steppin' at Lounge of III,

full of Tribe, feelin' alone,

repeating all the words to a song I love at the top of my lungs

to the DJ's delight!

"We got a real Hip Hop fan in here..." (on the mic)

Stretch out your legs let me make you bawl,

drive you insane drive you up the wall. 

Staring at your dome piece, very strong,

Stronger than pride, stronger than Teflon.

Real Hip Hop fan...great,

Nobody's beating down the door for them.

Today they want chicks with anthems

(If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it...)

And good girls who act like bad bitches,

so they can turn them back into good girls

(...you act so different around me...).

So I go where the hip hop is loud,

and I can midnight maraud like it's new.

You can be my mama and I'll be your boy...

If I had been alone, I may have shed a tear

for all the people walking by, looking in, 

ignoring the native tongues,

but I kept up appearances,

forced myself to stay in the moment

and thought back to black and white.

A busy New York street,

a cab, a girl dressed for winter.

Q-tip wasn't even looking for her when he saw her.

Chemistry, all the same...

Since when do we have to be lookin' 

for all we want and need to find it?

Shorty let my tell you 'bout my only vice,

it has to do wit lots a lovin',

and it ain't nothin' nice.

Q-tip let her pass.

Probably chalked it up to coincidence,

or bad timing...or an "abstract" video,

...or the wrong song...

She was a flake like corn

and I was born

not to understand 

by letting her pass

I proved to be a better man...

SHE KEEPS ON PASSIN' MEEEEEE BY!

Butterflies in Anacostia

Didn't know hands could do that...
Lightly walk up and down an arm
and cause explosions...elsewhere
everywhere...
anxious to see where hands will land,
if kisses will be good and what will...grow...


He surprised me,
laid on my lap and let me rub his head,
even that made my stomach flutter.

He's not playing fair...
He's not playing...
looking at me between long blinks,
watching the the ice melt,
only one of us wet,
the other one enjoying the breeze of Monarch wings,
teasing the situation with dissecting eyes.

If I had said all I wanted, 
he wouldn't have believed me,
Anything in that moment would have been cliche,
blamed on the amorous feeling brought on by touch.
So I stayed in that moment with him...

And wondered if he really saw what there is to see in me.