Ghazal for America
He holds his kid close on the boat to America,
says, “We’ll all be safe when we land in America”
You put your hand on your heart and say what you
know, go on and recite your prayer to America.
They never tell you in songs and in chants, the
nation’s divisible. There’s two sides in America.
A man spews hatred from the platform and has the
balls to say “We can become great again, America.
It all ends with silence hung in the air, noose
around neck, the final prayer for America.
So from me to whomever, I say so sincerely:
please, let’s do better. We fucked up, America.
untitled.
i came from the ocean
and the ocean is where we
return when life on earth
becomes a burden.
my mother returned to
the water when i was young,
i think i was her burden. i
sent postcards twice a day,
i wanted to hear her voice
bubble through the waves
to me. i addressed them to
the sea hoping
they would drift to her and
land gently on her lap.
they were always gone in
the morning. i found them
years later in a closet- top
shelf- after my father
swam away.
licorice
your lips curl into a smile and
it smells like the sun. when you
speak your words taste like licorice.
our hands intertwine and your
fingertips become the stars
leading me in the dark. your
purity is contagious leaving
traces of you behind everywhere
you are. there are things i don't
say things i can't. but you look at
me and you know. your eyes tear
into me taking what's yours and what isn't.
(i don't mind i'm all yours anyway.)
so i sit across from you and let you
take what you want. your smile
lighting me on fire. your words
leaving a lingering taste and i
realize: i never liked licorice until
i tasted your lips.