Hanif Abdurraqib, A Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance
things are getting better. change is scary but not more than staying in the same place forever.
I plucked you like a rose
You stab me with a thorn
I tolerated the pain
But you wether like a rose
he wrote poetry all over my skin
and i fell in love as he went on
we played stupid silly games
till it was the time for dawn
in the darkness of night
everything was full of ecstacy
there happened many things
with starry sky and you and me
your hands are intimidating
and how sensually you speak
caramel brown eyes
conspicuous, alluring physique
that moment was perfect
and how you did me undress
your face was bright as city lights
i didn't want to see anything else
-august
Mary Oliver, from "Serengeti”, House of Light
December 1, 1928 The early diary of Anaïs Nin, 1903-1977
there's always something i hide, something i whisper to myself at middle of the night.
-august/fictionflaws
maybe someday soon, we'll be there, together, forever.
they don't see the dew on the leaves which were my tears because those aren't from my eyes.
they don't know i cannot cry because i am just an echo of desert, and everything is dry.
instead of my eyes, my heart cries.
my heart yells evertime a nail is pierced on my soul which is so concealed that it is as invisible as air.
i have no place to shed tears. i have no home to weep.
for me, these leaves cry. they know the pain i am enduring. they understand my heartache.
i have eyes but they see me more. they are my companion in my best and worse. they give me a way to breathe.
i could never be more thankful to what earth gave me and how soil is always giving me a place to keep my feet on.
i am fortunate enough to have a friend no one else has.
-Aakriti.
you are just a thought far away for deciding what you wanna be.
-August.