You know the feeling
that refreshing taste of newness
the aching agony that occurs merely from having to wait
until you can see him again
the love sick hurricane in your stomach
just to hear him say your name
the sweat that hides itself beneath your fingertips
when he’s around
the sudden sense of laughter
upon seeing his face
because you know like he does
the secret that lets its guard down
upon the blinking of your eyelids
the pace of a heartbeat
when a word of kindness escapes his lips
you know it
the feeling of fresh love
like the aroma of gourmet coffee
like when the caffeine simply invites you
like the pupils of his eyes when they mentally undress you
because the kindness pouring forth from these thoughts
is strangely exhilarating
the feeling that reminds you
why you were ever single,
the masculinity of a voice
strong, and incredibly calm
whatever I could do to convince poetry that it was necessary that we speak
was a chance to breathe,
for he was a ventilator
and I just needed air.
so I rushed home just to grab a book
or pry open my diary
and hold his thoughts in my hand until my paper
bled its first period.
Over time, we got closer and I became more open
I grew out of childhood
and demanded more attention from my lover
I became jealous and obsessive with my need to be seen with him
in the classroom, in the library, and late into Open mic nights
I ate up words with the speed of speech
and wrapped alliterations
like it was oxygen.
and sipping on rhythm slow
like the stride
of a black man
It was no longer convenient to lock me away,
cover me under the flap of notebooks and journals,
it was time to come out of the closet.
I tried to stay focused really,
but paper had proved to be too cluttered
and too slow for us,
too polluted to allow the thing we’d attempted through privacy
to ever grow into what I needed
How could I allow our particular version of intimacy
to be buried by the commas and blue lines
and falling parenthesis that make up the creative world?
After all, we were in love and as such it was time for marriage
and the introduction of this relationship
into the mainstream
The way these words were so finely crafted
almost as if they wrapped themselves around my lips
and took trips inside my memories
any feeling this good has got to be a sin…isn’t it?
What I’d stumbled upon was a gift and no,
this was not a transgression of law
6 thoughts on “The Relationship – My Love Affair with Poetry”
Reblogged this on bleedingbutterflies.
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Hi there, I enjoy reading all of your post. I wanted to write a
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Aww that’s sweet, thanks! Appreciate it. 🙂
Reblogged this on Heaven has paradise, and China has Hangzhou. and commented:
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