The best lover

I told myself I could be the best lover

Listen to me

I told myself I could form the fairytales with words and my own hands

With imagination and soul

Choosing to go where the sky bends

And the water calls me out and balances me

Soothed over as honey

On a chest so sweet

So deep dark and brown

Sitting under crowns

Floating on clouds

I believed it, yes I believed it

Knotted women

Knotted women
With whipped legs, full
Siren Buddha orphan
Four fingers and red mats
Brown squares under their eyes
Lives down the street some tag and sway
Knotted women prefers it this way

King bed in clams
Pearls replacing pupils
Pills and a nice white
Did a promise keep them
A fellow hand wrapped in silk and wool

The sun cleanses knotted women
Bathing child
Swimming in muscle memory
A letter is nothing
A minute a mile away

Knotted women don’t keep time
Don’t use things how they’re suppose to
Right brained
Hair pulled brick by brick
Dreaming to touch Jupiter if they make it
Shiva in the Himalayas

Knotted women are Satis’ sacrifice
A severed limb
Mermaids live with them
They call each other sisters
It soothes all the soil and turmoil
It inspires miracles
Knotted women

September 7, 2016

The first time I fell in love with another it was during a low time in both of our lives. It was long distance for most of the time. He would call me everyday even though I was sleeping, even though we didn’t have a thing to say. And I would write and send him intimate poetry every week. He didn’t understand it, but he understood me. As usual; after some time, we stopped seeing each other. And well, the phone calls slowly stopped coming as frequent, and my hands were too tire to write or feel. Our lives intensified. Soon silence.