i wipe my lips
and stare into your mouth
and try to pry open your jaw
with my mind
I want to reach in and caress your heart
soften it with my scorpion love.
you are difficult, i said
i know, you replied
and you just stared and asked what.
i wonder where you got that nerve
God don’t like ugly.
the windows of my car are foggy
and my emotions are scribbled
in the condensation of our
mingled monoxide.
i have cotton mouth
my mind travels to a trip
2006 somali roadblocks
the men ask for our passports
men always want something, i think
i was 13 then.
here i am again
with those thoughts
nestled in between my thighs
the sweat starts to form on my collarbone
New Orleans humidity is always unnecessarily cruel
i stroke my afro laced scalp.
men always want something from me
and i always thought i delivered.
in spite of my careless heart
that tumbles around in their sheets
and in their less than careful hands.
in reality i fall short
because i am painfully cautious
with my thoughts.