I wish i didn’t feel the way i do for you.
That dreams of you do not follow me into the dead of the night…
that the embers of dawn did not carry your name in their midst
I have prayed that your kiss was not the nourishment i crave,
that your touch wasn’t the calm to my soul
That we never made fire,
that these scalding tears were not real
But most of all, i wish you didn’t have to leave me…
The women before me,
the ones who made a feast of their silence on the daily
bowing at the altar that is their husbands
The ones who pierced the night
beckoning their husbands from the dark,
cleansing their palates from the bitter aftertaste of lust lugged home by their husbands
they live in me
their silence fires my soul
emboldens my passion and stride
strengthening me in hours of doubt..
for them i carry the torch of life
I brew magic everyday
on this ebony canvass divine
destitution and death from this body of mine
I have kissed every crevice,
spoken lovingly to the darkened parts,
serenaded it under the starry moonlight
and awoke it with kisses at dawn…
i have loved myself to life,
with every birth and breath of mine,
to have you rip me apart again.
He hated it. The strength of my tongue
like he taught me to tame it. The fire that burned beneath my chest….
like he taught me to make a feast of my mother’s silence.
This wanton tongue of mine,
fashioned from the oppressed eyes and sighs of the supple bodies
sharpened edges doused in the tears of my women passed.
This tongue will no longer hold this weight.
She will soar free with no fear.
On this bed…..
i have tasted those lips,
sealed our fortunes with a thousand kisses.
I traced your very lifeline with my tongue,
etched my name on your being,
now you wear my imprint on your soul
Adorned to the heavens with my wiles
On this bed…
I have choked on your distance
cowered from your heated malice…
i have bitten down on this tongue that once pleasured you…
On this bed.
i watch your strangeness make a home
On this bed.
Today i awoke,
Awoke with madness sleeping beside me
fingers intertwined as the day beckoned.
I feel it,
Moving like a wind beneath this flesh,
from the bottom of my feet to the core of my soul;
Restlessly causing my joyfulness.
Bursting around the seams you are,
Spilling uncontrollably about darkened crevices
Hurling joy at the dead spaces of my life.
I feel you
Your fire, consuming my death
Reducing this accursed existence to ashes
Calling Life, beyond the Grave,
Rising gloriously like a phoenix from the ashes,
soaring in the heavens
In search of the divine.
I feel your love
Discarding the dirt accumulated by the whims of the world
Cleansing me fully
Pulling me closer to renewal…
In this madness. I am finding divinity
I am weakened by this maddening Joy
The land of the free danced giddily in her minds eye as she tried to center her thoughts. The images lured her in their superficiality and zestiness, forcing all humility to the side. She wanted it. What laid beyond the borders of the waters that ran through her veins.
This lust followed her as she walked confidently to join the winding line of bodies eager to enter the white bricked building that held the fates of those eager to taste the shores of the promised land; America.
Now here she stood. Window 5. Staring at the face of the bearded man with skin like colour of a plump ripened tomato.. His hair the color of wheat, was brushed carefully to the side away from his red face causing his red cheeks to stand like prized trophy. A cream shirt with beige tie matched his emphasized redness. He looked like those naked round babies with wings that lined the pages of history books- Cherubim she thinks they were called. This cherub had kind smiling eyes that spoke before he did. In that smile, her faith was reinforced.
“Your documents” the kind eyed red man said.
She watched as the turning pages competed with the sound of the air-conditioning on full blast.
She scanned the faces around the air-conditioned room, sweating as they laid silent entreaties at the feet of the one they served.
Stamp. She smiles.
“I’m sorry but you do not fulfill the requirements for an American visa at this time.” The smile slowly crawled off her face. You are welcome to try again in a couple of months’ time.”
Window number 5…
His cherub smile followed her home, like an unwanted companion