To my future wife

there is a man with no hands
that speaks to me
now and then he says
that sometimes his hands
itch but can’t scratch them
he says he is fascinated with
magic eight balls and watermelon eyes
I tell him it sounds like poetry and soul
he says it sits like jazz on the back porch
with old folk
young blood he tells me
its in every crevice imaginable
tis thick thighs shaking
cherry trees and the love of climbing
i tell him i barely got room in my
head to entertain this conversation
too many twirling memories
littered with stripping molded in hieroglyphs
from the time i used to walk ancient
from the memories i can’t remember
he tells me he has finally figured out
the meaning of life
i tell him struggle
he says no love
i say what
he says you heard me
i say can’t be that simple
he tells me i don’t have any hands
it is that simple
i tell him to get out my head
he says who says i was in your head
says its love young blood
i say word
i can see that
he says you have to see it to live it
i say word
he says he can’t stop staring at
magic eight balls and watermelon eyes
You say dear what in the blue bloody blazes
are you talking about
I tell you i was having a conversation out loud
you say that’s the first sign of madness
get your life before i come get for you
i say i have been waiting
whats taking you so long
you tell me when the student is ready
the master will appear. #whatitlooklikephotography #writingperformancelaboratory #blackgirlart #believemepoet #rainmakerzero #peterseaton #petercharlesthickens

Made with Instagram