brown skin

i wonder if the brown of your skin

tastes like honey when it slides

off the honeycomb and into eager mouths

if it explodes with candied sweetness

subtle and shocking at the same time.

does your kind of brown

wear itself out with its beauty?

or does it just stay pretty



Trying not to lose you means holding onto you with the two delicate, unbroken fingers I have left.

Between saving you and losing me, who knew holding on could be such a dangerous endeavor?

Sometimes I miss the days when I thought just being available was enough to make us better:

         When I believed sharing space, breath, body, pain, life—

Such intimate, delicate, funny little things they are—

Was enough to make the two of us whole people again.

Was enough to make us feel like lovers and friends

Rather than rubber shields against each other’s emotions

The ignorance was blissful then:

The innocence almost felt like safety

A smoke screen whispering lullabies of false reality

this is real love!”

…or at least that’s how it seemed:

What a dream within a dream…