Harlem to Brooklyn

while pressed against marigold skin
the plants in the sidewalk cracks develop
purple haze gliding from my mother’s voice
she eats shrimp roti on the bench outside cursing the red and blue
police sirens and car horns
I can feel the air and smell
the exhaust brothas yell from the rooftop
in flatbush the view from my best
friend’s window sweat and dick inside
marlboro reds and cat litter
we’re sexin’ cursin’ pushin’
on the train
ride back home to 1st and 59th st
I can feel my sister’s lips and donuts on my fingertips

avoiding the chicken wings and pork fried rice
I run to the bridge in the Brooklyn Botanic Garden
I arrive panting
to the smell of arroz y habichuelas glide my hand over the brick outside
reminds me of my mother’s bedroom I smile
at the thought of rose water
oxtails and cat fur
skipping through yellow crosswalks towards home cell phones
blink I puff a joint
ash it under gold nikes

Hush

Our babies would be magical creatures,
left alone they would steal
the thorns off the rose bush
step a starlit path in the brambly woods

You are my world right now
because you refuse to be
because I just met you in a world of hearts
on a melancholy string

You are perfect to me
I am totally present
You run through my veins
pump blood through my body
My thoughts reflect your light crystals
When our fingers touch
You are me

I have hopes for us
you wouldn’t believe me
you would not understand
I don’t fall in love with everyone
Sometimes in the summer I do easier

When your fingers touch my skin
it prickles like a dirty cactus
Here is the trivial I want to see you I miss you
I’ll wait
You already know stars reflect in the whites of your eyes
You are not perfect, I don’t love you
You might be temporary I hate you
I don’t trust
You’re just another one
I’m scared of intimacy
You’re not mine
I am a writer My causes?
Later.
Your faults
your atrocities
the sun on your back looks like water.
You are me right now reflecting water
in grimy ponds on NYC sidewalks
and Oakland calles