Time (June 19th 2010)
A ticking clock
On the wall in a strange bathroom
Reminds me my time here is limited.
A goodbye meal
Given away easily and ingested quickly.
There is a tug at my heart
Pulls me in all directions.
This is not my home.
Not my city.
The hips held
Evaporate into the sand
Of an hour glass.
Time is running...Out.
I lack patience.
These goodbyes
Cling to unmade sheets in a shared space
For just a moment.
Stolen moments.
But when the weight of your body kept me still and grounded,
I could've sworn
The walls caved in to hear our whispers.
The ceiling moving
Like uprooted clouds on a windy day.
For a moment I was uncomplicated.
I could breathe.
Now my scent will be the only thing that remains.
Milk and honey.
My tendencies draw me to fleeting feelings.
Unattainable and complex.
I've learned that leaving can feel like fleeing.
(Or quitting.)
A rising sun teasing heavy eyes.
This dance, recognizable.
Feathers in familiar ear lobes has become my legacy.
I just hope that you miss me a little when I'm gone.
This ticking
Abrasive and unrelenting
Warns me.
That time will not sit idol
For long goodbyes.
Full Moon (June 26th 2010
I warned my lover,
That my smile often makes promises I can't keep.
Said this without uttering a word,
Just hoped she could see my eyes
Burning with regret.
But she didn't catch it.
No one can say I didn't try.
Could've made more attempts
But it was the stench of my breath
That finally gave me away.
How it reeked of an ex's heart I had performed mouth to mouth on.
It was this scent,
Trapped in my throat,
That I choked on today,
Uttering words of a missed past.
"I am sorry."
I held your hand tightly so I could hide my racing heart's tendencies.
And I warned you I was weary.
You still insisted on staying put.
You,
A new experience that felt so much like history.
De ja vu.
2:30am and my body will not tire without your voice to hum me to sleep.
I am tossing and turning.
A mess of blankets and pillows that feel too hard to dream on.
Wondering if you will remember that I was your Queen
Come morning.
Or if you will be too busy mourning to text me
Come morning.
Will you wish it was the morning before,
When emotions were not in such grave danger.
I never want to be your demise.
The reason you learned your lesson.
I just want to hold you.
Your womanhood in my mouth.
It was our secret.
Now I'm wondering if our potential will remain undiscovered.
Old poems and clean sheets.
I lack the right to request anything of you.
Never felt like enough of a woman to ask someone to stay.
After all,
How can I have that much audacity when all I manage to do is stray?
I guess I'm just looking for someone with enough heart to leave a piece for me.
For a moment.
All I am,
Are these moments.
When the full moon is done glaring at me through my window,
I wonder
What will morning (mourning) bring?
Christian Dior Fall 2011 Couture Show... Ridiculous. Models transformed into flowers: a garden on the runway. Incredible. Moving.
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