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Shania

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There was the method of kneeling,
a fine method, if you lived in a country
where stones were smooth.
The women dreamed wistfully of bleached courtyards,
hidden corners where knee fit rock.
Their prayers were weathered rib bones,
small calcium words uttered in sequence,
as if this shedding of syllables could somehow
fuse them to the sky . - Naomi Shihab Nye

mud at a swamp’s edge, you might tell me something
about the dandelion & how it is not a flower itself
but a plant made up of several small flowers at its crown
& lord knows I have been called by what I look like
more than I have been called by what I actually am -Hanif Abdurraqib

“All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was” Sand in between my toes as I remember the sun beaming, hands sticky from the popsicles in the back of the freezer. Feet slapping the scorching concrete, holding the jumbo braids cuz they were too heavy soaked. The faster you ran the less it hurt, trying to catch the rollin’ sto’ man, racing the cousins, before he turned the corner.

Your Daddy is rich, and ya ma is good looking. So, hush lil baby…don’t cry.

The hoodlums don’t know about Neil deGrasse Tyson. Maybe I’m like a luminous ball of hydrogen and helium, conjoined by gravity. Burning hot and stunning. I’MA STAR…. and he just looks up to the sky and points cause he can only see a speck

You want me to volunteer you broken promises? 🖤

Muah 💋
I blew you a good morning kiss. Now catch it and put it in your pocket, better yet sit it under ya fitted. Last time I got swisher guts on my lip gloss

She sells seashells by the seashore…
She hopes she will sell all her seashells soon.

…The Nostalgia of napping in a (sanctified, Baptist) church pew will forever bring calm lethargy and confusion.

Woken up in a greased combination of sweat and anointing oil, followed by the ambiance of a black choir as the smells of Ponds and Shea butter engulf my ashy knees and run down into my laced, ruffled socks. But, I no longer have the courage to fall asleep with a hard Wether’s nested in my gap.

Yolanda Lullabies- by Moi

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