love

love.

the nutrients that fuel

my every being,

pulling me closer to the

sunlight

on the dark days.

even when I feel alone,

I feel as though

love is still holding on to me.

grasping my hips,

holding my hand.

the maiden name

of my ancestors.

my destiny.

what I walk towards

every morning when

the sun whispers over my skin,

and the sound of birds

bury themselves inside of my

ears. 

beautiful.

love makes everything beautiful.

even the dirty things,

getting your toes muddy,

having your eyes 

covered in 

salt water.

still beautiful.

I've learned that love

is the very meaning

of my existence.

The very thing that

takes me out of the physical world

and puts my words

my spirit.

in the hearts of others.

distance

Distance was the best teacher for me,
about you.
And though you’re far away,
I constantly feel close,
to you.

lovers in a broken city

he considered me a
beautiful catastrophe,
a city
that built itself up
and let itself fall
over and over again.
we described my mind
as the most intricate
architecture.
he became my favorite
late night phone call.
my favorite
only distant lover.
he was a transfusion,
that would flow through
my veins,
explaining his need
to be there.
he was different,
and he needed nothing more,
but to show his
genuine intentions,
and he received love.
he wanted to grasp
he wanted to understand
what made my skin crawl,
what made my knees weak,
what made rain fall from my eyes.
he wanted to understand how
the sun set every night,
into darkness,
and rose again
in the morning,
as strong and beautiful as before.
he wanted to walk with me.

thank you heart

When I find myself,
back to writing about the
trouble that you gave me,
I realize that my heart is
teaching me how to heal,
and then let go.

a taste of a dream

I like it
when the street lights are bright,
and I can feel you whisper
my name into my mouth.

I like it
when I can see how shy
you get when I'm in
your presence
and your hands start sweating
and your throat feels
like a lump of overly
soaked cotton.

I like it
when you call me yours,
and you act like I don't notice
how you stumble over your words
when you walk into the same room
as me.

I like it
how I can feel
how genuinely
you want to touch me,
mentally.
Physically too,
but baby I can tell that's
not what is on your mind right now.

But what I like the most is how
I can feel myself walking into you,
and I can trust what's inside of you,
to be good to what's inside of me.
I just want you to love me,
while I love you freely.

You're the perfect person,
that stepped out of my dreams,
into my reality.

Reminders and Directions

Maybe the sunshine goes out
in my eyes,
when I need to remember
how I got through the
darkness.

for my loves

occasionally,
I ask the universe
how it decides
who walks into my life,
whether it is random
(which I now know for sure
it is definitely not)
because there was definitely
a reason for meeting you.
I can see how
our galaxies
collide,
into beautiful
colors, and
beautiful collection of stars.
I see myself in you,
and I see the sun
every time I experience
your happiness.
I experience rain,
every time the clouds
get you down.
I question how anyone,
much rather you,
could look at yourself
and see anything but
perfection.
pure gold.
You reflection
shows the genuine
intention,
and deep love
you have experienced,
and how strong you have
become.
I see in you,
your mother,
your ancestors,
your moments in heaven,
your moments from hell.
And there is no one,
that I could
replace
your soul
with.
Thank You.
You have brightened my life
beyond understanding.
I am sending
so much love
to you,
for always.

welcome morning

i like the mornings after
painful nights
the most.
my soul likes to listen,
heal,
and repair itself
while i am deep in slumber.
i'm thankful that my heart
likes to piece itself
back together peacefully.

you dont have to be small

you are as gentle as a cool breeze,
and as powerful as the sun.
stop selling your self short for others.
you can be great,
and they can be great.
nature needs multiple things to prosper.

unapologetically naked

i think the most confident thing to do as a black woman is be confident with your naked self.
and not only nude physically, sexually.
but nude with how you are mentally, spiritually.
be in love with the curves of your body, as well as the depth of your mind.
be beautiful,
let the truth spill from your lips.
don't let yourself be caged for their approval.

i am not your sexual object

did you love her?
did you really love her?
or did you just like how your tongue
felt roaming down her side.
did you understand how her body works,
or was she only a sexual toy
used for objectification to pleasure
the most used part of your body.
did you understand her mind?
is she just a sex symbol to you?
can you appreciate her body as art?
ask yourself that the next time your
hand slides down a woman’s body.
you can love her without an orgasm

alone is a blessing

an important part of love,
is learning how to be alone.
an important part of being alone
is learning how to enjoy it.
I've noticed that we struggle
to migrate with souls,
to blend with souls,
but it is as easy as simply
helping others understand
that you are journeying too.
you get their struggle.
embrace each other,
with open arms,
open hearts,
and spread kindness,
and you'll realize how much
of the universe is within you
and how many lives
you impact.

watch how love lights up when you bring spring into the winter

to love someone else,
unconditionally,
asking for little to nothing in return,
is giving someone a handful of
their favorite spring flowers
in the middle of a snowy winter.

loving you is like loving me

the second greatest gift
I ever received was
the chance to love someone
other than myself.
the first was
the chance to love
every part of me.

i love you like the sun

you are my favorite kind of love,
one that reflects
the brightest,
sweetest
parts of me.

self love is crucial

figure out how to love the deepest,
most painful parts of yourself first,
then you'll be able to love others
properly,
with more ease.

Touch

and when he whispered
his lips became a
feather to my ear,
leaving me with a
sensation only virgins feel
after their second or third time
being kissed below their waist.
he thinks I don't notice
the pulse of his manhood
as he tried to brush
his lips across mine.
it started with a touch of the hand,
the lightest touch of his fingers,
making love to my wrist,
singing a beautiful
lust story,
causing a crave
that neither one of us were
suppose to desire.
you were long,
and drawn out,
and you took your time to
place your lips
on mine,
and relax my mind.
it's like a broken vhs,
the way my mind replays
how your voice sounded
when you told me to
"relax".
Never kiss a poet,
the way your tongue felt
going down my side
gave me enough inspiration
to write love poems,
lust poems,
and all of that in between.
You did something to me,
that I'm not entirely sure
that I've felt before.

2014

embody love within yourself.
every single thing you do
should be done with an
open, selfless, heart.
no expectations for love in return.
not everyone that you love deeply,
will love you the same.
however, that should not stop the
depths and intensity of your love.
love how you love, regardless.
embrace the differences
between your love and someone else's.
don't forget to love yourself completely
from the beginning,
loving others will come more naturally
and be more fulfilling
if you do.
at any point in time,
if you don't like something,
change it.
never be afraid to
start over.
change is good.

love aint real.

love is
so unpredictable
so unfair
confusing
complex
there when you need it
gone when you want it.
but really always around.
one of the biggest illusions.
you think one thing
feel another
and then theres what is really occurring.
don’t give up on your peace.
it shouldn’t make you give up much
but your old ways and bad days.
1+1 & 2+2 type simplicity.
we were taught what to think of it.
but we aren’t the best at showing it
expressing it.
letting it go.
when the times get tough do you run.
or do you step in a slightly damp sidewalk of concrete
so you can get stuck
watching every one else happily
not
in love
love ain’t real.
but it is.
and sometimes it isn’t.
but its wanted.
vulnerable.
needy.
it is love.