His voice has pockets
Where he stuffs his purpose
And his thought process
He let's things be known
Against his will
Though he holds back
His honesty can't sit still
It purs in between his casual conversation
Holds its breath in when he's displeased

He sneaks around himself
So can't put himself at ease
With me

I hear him speaking
Over, through,
Despite himself

I badger him
Rough handed
And with gentle brutishness
I am a cavern
Of self-expression
To which he has pilgrimaged
But he will not bare his lessons
So would lessen me
With his indecisions

If he would only subjugate himself
Relinquish his expectations
So he could be overwhelmed

He could know dominion
And sanctuary
See sacrament in the origins
Of soothsaying

Truth begets trust
And she is
By nature

But he is all controlled sensuality
Bubbling over
In need of a deep space to fill
A vaster place to hold himself
When heart throbbing

Yet won't allow just any womxn
To put him in this place
Beneath her
Fluid, firm and pulsating

He doesn't want these things
But wages war down his throat
For no reason
That isn't his own doing

Not sure if he wants what is necessary
But his needs won't stay on their knees
Clawing their way up his intentions
Laying themselves bare on his tongue
Wrenching his lips open
With their legs held wide
And welcoming


In those moments
He chokes it back
Eats it up
Holds onto it
For himself
Only to profess
Their sounds
And haunted
By what he's withheld
In the corners
Of how he's felt

Written February 6, 2017 and Rediscovered August 28, 2019.

The Bookends of Amerikkka: A Toni and Miles Documentary Review

The Bookends of Amerikkka: A Toni and Miles Documentary Review