Pillow Talk

i like lying next to you,


naked,

whole in our conversations.

this is me
and you are you.

and we share orange slice stories,
every bit is juicy,
filling,

all given to me jeweled in your musk
a flowing pandora:
memories of the night your mother died;
your belief that having children is a form of narcissism;
your favorite mos def concerts;
singing lines of songs that speak to your soul...

you tell me, in clarity--

your soul.



and i tell you that i'm afraid:
of how beautiful you might think I may be,
hiding bashful smiles under pillow talks;
that my children are political agents in the system;
and how i don't remember my mother in my memories.

our loneliness abated by our together

for tonight; we are intimate, in timid lust.
we kiss....

and morning comes.


there's no turning back.
i've been changed and,
re-arranged and,
it's not like it was before....

i relish in the now
of our isness.




i like lying next to you,

orange slices,

smiling in our pillow talks.

there's no turning back.