If cultural appropriation was the way tumblr describes it,

Americans wouldn’t be allowed to

eat Chinese food,

learn Spanish,

watch anime,

eat pizza,

have a religion other than Christian,

talk to people from other countries,

or use words with Latin roots.

If that’s your idea of an integrated community, then you aren’t doing anything positive for the state of the country.

i want to tell her

You take her for granted.

You see her so often
you ask her to leave right after lunch,
while I sit:
trying not to stare too much,
                      laugh too hard,
                      smile too wide
at the fact that she is finally here.

I want to tell her, Don’t go,
but she’s your friend, not mine;
I watch her pack her things,
slowly,
and I admire the delicate curve of her neck.

Long distance hurts,
and we’re not even in a relationship.

She glances up.
Her eyes linger on mine
and I wonder what she’s thinking,
whether she wants to touch my fingers
as badly as I want to touch her lips,
whether she wants to kiss my forehead
as I smell her perfume.

I pride myself on being a traveler
and never getting tied down,
but I see her once a year
and she feels like home.
She’s my gravity when I float,
my compass when I wander,
even though we’ve never been
alone together.

                           I like her because
she looks down when she talks
but her words carry enough weight
to sink my ship.      
                           I like her because
she would rather stay in and paint
lopsided portraits
than go to a party.
                           I like her because
I called her once
to ask for directions,
and she sent me to the wrong address.

She finishes packing.
I should walk her to the door or
offer to drive her home;
I should ask her out to coffee
before I leave next week.
I should at least try,
Thank you for coming.

But if I open my mouth,
I know I’ll say:
I looked up your name
and it means “milk white,”
but I love
the dark heat of your skin
like you’ve got the sun
in your ribcage.

She leaves
while I’m still trying to remember
how words work,
and you close the door behind her.

Your gaze meets mine, and
I stand up.
I say, Excuse me,
then push you out of the way
and follow her.

found a piece of paper in my pocket with a hand-written note that says 

"the trick to Princess Bride writing tone is - every character is extraordinarily polite to each other the entire movie - no one gets serious/emotional until it really counts, and then the contrast packs more punch"

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