2018-11-07 14:24:25.224.JPG

honey

2018-11-07 14:24:25.224.JPG

honey

my arms once catalogued evidence
of the ways I used to punish myself
for not being skinny or white
for not being the right kind of intelligent
for not bringing the right kind of laughter
for the way my parents set fire to the institution
of marriage on fire right before my eyes

tonight I coat my triceps with cocoa butter
rubbing with slight pressure
trying to erase traces of the fifty pounds that came out of nowhere
Instead of pulling weeds from this land,
candlelight now forces those stretch marks to glisten

Your brown fingers graze the porcelain pasture of my breasts
sending electric jolts
that shake roots resting along the length of my spine
Your fingerprints make flowers bloom on scorched earth
curls melt into my arms
taking root in light-skinned soil

If I can make my body your home,
will your lips still find my darkest earth as sweet as honey?

My arms only have the capacity to hold you,
because they first wrapped themselves around my own body
in forgiveness, kindness and love

My fingers can only make space for you
because my fingers first raked the soil of my own Eden