poetry

Boomerang

Boomerang.

i only considered it a myth on the mouths of lonely women

longing for a time when hints of jasmine rose like smoke between their thighs,

and men had reason to worry of their departure.

“they always come back” they said, eyes twinkling with redemption songs.

Boomerang

i laughed, nodded in agreement with a lying nod.

and now.

thrown, cast, leapt, jumped, dumped, disappeared– out into the wild

no matter the exit strategy, they’ve started to come back from their landings,

from world travels, from swollen wombs of wives, longing arms of girlfriends,

from business ventures gone wrong, and gone wealth.

debunking my theory of myths

–my inboxes a disjointed script of Ghosts of Hims Past.

“i’ll fly you,” they say. “do you miss me?” they ask. “just lunch?” they bargain.

ulterior motives dripping like drool from hungry wolf fangs.

my head shakes, heart long turned away.

forgotten boomerangs

a strange phenomenon.

no thank you, sirs.

no thank you.

Be

a dozen ways to Live,
we taught each other how to breathe
without oxygen
oxymoronic collaborations of genius
we crafted,
between stained fingers and intertwined strands
of lust and Love…
coasting on intangible planes of Pure.

not meant for consumption
yet you ate off my plate of afflicted beautiful
like your last meal was at stake
i fed you spoonfuls of consistent inconsistency…
washed your tongue with my words,
smiling in the moments when our palates met gracefully.

imperfected flawlessly, we reached
so far beyond any planet or star, we named this Abyss
sealed with a kiss of wrists when i lay lazily across your midriff
and not meant to rhyme but reason escaped, so Be was let Be.