I waited for the river to reach me.
I stood there with my toes clutching at the earth.
Burying my roots into the ground.
Waiting to be watered.
The sun glaring, burning as the coils of my hair extended to the blue sky.
My skin pulsed with blood as the wind juked around the trees that surrounded me.
My breath ebbed and flowed from my soul to my lungs.
My body was it’s own organ.
A cell that belonged to a colossus of unimaginable scale.
Yet the simplicity of life is found in quiet.
Loud silences that echoed underneath my shades.
Traversing my gold plated bones.
I am a fan buying a woman gifts.
Connecting the dots
As I shop for myself with the person I spend moments with.
Locating the rift
In our personal wardrobes.
Remembering conversations where I was told.
Her favorite type of clothes.
Careful calculations as I offer suggestions to complete the equation on what it is they desire.
Cropped photos of sweaters of different shades waiting for her to give me the OK.
The way her face grins as she steps into the sundress that I suggest.
I know what she likes.
If I would get it wrong she would send me quickly back to the drawing board.
Here I am
Figuring her out
One garment at a time.
In a misguided attempt to fly without wings he fell to his doom.
Living his life based on the opinion of his peers. He made no room for himself inside his soul. Shoving and constricting. Twisting and bending to fit into the iron box that was constructed by people who didn’t even know his last name. In the day time he played video games and read research about evolution while listening to Herbie Hancock.
At night he roamed the streets while kicking over trashcans filled with his parent’s expectations. Wondering in his mind if they too, were misguided. Howling at the moon like a crazed wolf. Waking up in places unfamiliar. Next to warm bodies that held onto him like he was the last breath that they would ever need. Holding him down like vines over abandoned concrete. His soul waiting on the street sweeper to cleanse the debris.
He laid there; In a catatonic state, wondering.
“Why doesn’t anyone rescue me?”
He is use to being the one that people retreat to.
When the front line is being bombarded by arrows. When the spears strike from a distance that doesn’t allow retaliation.
He stands with his arms extended toward the chaos-
not expecting for anyone to save him.
Every time you spoke my heart grew softer.
I sat in close proximity to you.
Pretending like the wounds you caused had healed.
Like I didn’t lay awake at night picking at the scabs left by your venom.
The night went on and I smiled through the plexiglass.
Glancing over towards you hoping that we would make eye contact and that you would mouth the words telling me you were sorry.
Instead I jumped through flaming hoops with absolute precision.
Laughed and conversed more than I usually do so you wouldn’t see how much your presence affected me.
For a moment I suggested to myself that I would ask if we could talk outside.
The embarrassment I already felt from how distant we were crippled any intiative that I had.
So I sat there; eating, talking, and laughing like my world hadn’t turned grey when I heard your name uttered when you arrived.
I should have left when you got there.
Made an excuse to leave.
But I stayed, wanting to speak with you again like we use to.
Felt an ache that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Lightning stretched itself across the left side of my ribcage when you left.
And then all the pressure I felt faded away.
Just as you did.
I wonder if I’ll find love here.
The women are either already involved.
Think religion is their only salvation.
Or they’re just not into me. And they think me weird.
Should I suffocate my desire for love until the flame of my passion expires?
Or admire every woman that catches my eye from a far.
Let me examine myself through the Hubble telescope because a mirror doesn’t show enough detail.
I don’t think self examination will show exactly what other’s see when they see me.
The swelling grey nimbus causes me to be oblivious to the short comings that are obvious through the binoculars of those that I’m attracted to.
Often times I cater to the empty husk of someone who already gave their love away to someone undeserving.
Sometimes I feel like I’m the property on the monopoly board that no one wants to buy.
There will come a time when someone will step into my life and realize that I am Park Place, Boardwalk, and all four of the railroads in one.
My experiences have taught me patience.
There is no perfect life partner, but I do believe harmony can be obtained through effort.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s my belief in what it means to be a black male.
I can defend you; With the resilience of armor forged in Mount Doom of Mordor.
I also have no shame in shedding the layers of my soul to you when it feels like the Earth’s gravity has been multiplied by 100.
There will be times when I need you to be my Senzu Bean.
And if there ever came a time when we both were in bad shape, believe that I would break my last one in half for you.
I spoke with an older couple one night and they looked as if they were still in the honeymoon phase.
They both offered the same advice when I commented on how refreshing it was to see them enjoying each other’s company over drinks.
They both gave the same advice as I was sipping my mint julep through the cold ice cubes.
I met a nine-tailed fox last night. It’s fur glowing through the forest and the cracks of my curiosity. It’s eyes wide; piercing. Examining my intentions as it circled around me. I entered a low stance with my right hand on the hilt of my dagger. My left palm facing the fox. It slowing walked closer, lowering it’s tails. I watch as leaves on the ground around it turned to the color of autumn. As it placed it’s nose to my palm I gripped my dagger tighter. I felt it breathe in calmly. It’s breath matching mine. My defense melted away as I stood up; releasing my hand from my dagger. The creature turned and ran away into the forest.