LONDON (THREE | VOWS)
To remember how worthy I am
of all the wonderful experiences to follow
to never allow guilt and misplaced sabotage
to blind my sense of awareness and belief
LONDON (TWO)
I wrote this while sitting on the Blackfriars Pier in London, right underneath the Millennium Bridge watching a new life of my own sprout.
I COME OUT AT NIGHT
I come out at night
when moonlight paints my bedsheets,
my skin—dark as night—
the floor, I traipse when you summon me
IN THE DANCE ROOM
Dark feet kicking dust into rigid corners
A language only known within these walls
Suppressed energy seeping
through tiny cracks
in between, and through,
the bricks that built this space
spilling out onto the streets
Sweating over the Marley floor
That horrifying word I heard you say,
crucial and cutting
Its impact on my being,
distilled through my sweat
as I dance across this Marley floor,
shoes at the door
I push my obedient prop,
dancing as if my life depends on it
What is in me?
This glass cannot protect me
from the way the moon’s light strikes my black skin,
like a magic pen.
Fuchsias and lavenders and spruces and teals
Fuchsias and lavenders and spruces and teals
looped around the darkest of skins
bodies in choke-holds
as they search, desperately, for a love
her design
Her dark hand resting on the glass
as she peers into a world
designed for no one like her
Skin as dark as the black night
that wiggles underneath the Manhattan Bridge