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ExpressionsByLewis

Undividual Poet

Category

Romance

differenc3

differenc3

they gave you a paper diadem

with crayon colored jewels

called you queen

hoping you would swallow

how sweet a thought could be

even ignore the worth of several

for one penny

or less

it wasn’t many


i

i made you my sweetie

with hands held and poetry

hard conversations

diet changes

i gave you hope and headwraps

headaches and foot massages

reasons to love again

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crush status

on an empty street downtown

early enough to be the only two

seated on separate benches

under one canopy

she smiled at him often

an inner sun fully risen

it shone up through her eyes

he looked down each time

keeping joy a secret

between his face and chest

air

proximity
proximity

our noses so close together
we trade air all night
i wonder how often a man
looks at his wife
studying love
wishing more than anything
that she would live forever

never taste the fear
of passing hopeful tomorrows
to the restless hands of doubters
leaving cares with
second rate lovers
joining unborn dreams
in the air where
skinless touch is felt most
and one can only be seen
with the power of belief

face fuzz

grow it and show it
grow it and show it

face fuzz in the a.m.

face fuzz in the eve

face fuzz on fleek

wild

raw

full time chin sleeve

face fuzz

turns cute to handsome

lame to lustworthy

have not

to have some

face fuzz

volunteers a loner for conversation

makes a growing man grown

guarantees flirtation

face fuzz

the passport to halls of glory

banner of manhood

telling its own story

chocolate addict

fiend
fiend

i can’t get past your aesthetic

hope you don’t mind

i got married for

the lifetime supply of chocolate

you just

overflow with loveliness

quencher of this manhood

attracted to the cocoa

dripping just south

from the center of your soul

lifted

fulcrum

country roads are blind

and beautiful

not a single lamppost on duty

all the feels on deck

lit up by star shadow

uninterrupted

open to stay

or go

to feed

or be fed

in the smoldering stillness

of night air

the bustling solitude

of grass in the wind

dark

in the moonlight

i am lifted

taken to sights anew

in search of fresh vibes

in ancient skies

mke wangu

her
her

my wife

makes me feel like

im cheating with another woman

when she loses or gains weight

just a different kind of sexy

my wife

keeps me from falling off the sofa

when i reach for the remote

so that i can commit to wonderful

newfound stretch

my wife

sings me lullabies in her sleep

dreaming of memories lost

stitching together communities we all need

loving me so well

my skin refused to die

to be shed

for jealousy of future layers

Nubia

image
Nubia, based on art by oneoffkritik via deviantart.com

is it okay that i’m a mess when i see you
that i’m infatuated with your chocolate skin
signature curveage
lips full of promise
the way it moves in a sundress
before i get your name?
is it okay
for me to be in love with you
just for being a black woman?
is it off balance
to worship the smell of cocoa and shea
how they rub into my face
when i lay in the softness
of your cheeks?
to wish we knew what tribe
your ancestors grew your roots from
find that land
kiss it
give thanks for stretch marks
in the right places
nature’s tattoos
telling the eye what is real?
can i thirst to
drop my anchor in the depths of you
to swim in your soul
because you are a black woman?
is it fine that
i’m not as deep as i will be?
that your walk is
the sexiest thing about you
to a man concerned with carriage
who prefers sex in the light
your face unmade?
that i look to you
and find reasons for the earth to turn
the sun to shine
the moon to reflect it?
can i be undividual in my singular effort
to make space in every part of you
for me?
will you let me love you
black woman?

black woman

image
"Afro Woman says music is deeper than feeling and sweeter than fruit. Vital to my culture. So hit me with that African music." -by Sudanese artist, Artman Vibration @samir2art112

i have heard stories of great men
by the pens of dead victors
their words as honest
as reputation supersedes detail
so your pillow tells me more of the kings then they ever will
more than their advisors
more than their administrators
you were made equals
impregnating you with their hearts
consummating you with their dreams
pharaoh buried you alive
couldn’t live
couldn’t die without you
creepy as all get out
but you are the strength of a
hundred million men assaulting a bulwark
converted to a goddess
of ideation

*modified excerpt from “black woman”, a love letter to my wife*

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