In the middle of this kiss, I think for the thousandth time that I love you. the knowledge pops in strange places, it wedges its way in the middle of familiar paths. I don’t know what to do with this love, it twists itself around my belly, it grips my neck and holds my lungs so I breathe only in shallow gasps. Continue reading →
May 11, 1995.
The girl was bouncing on her grandmother’s four-poster bed as she listened to the radio, she loved jumping on the bed and having the bed throw her further in the air than with the other boring beds everywhere else. The radio was on, Bob Marley’s songs were on rotation and she bounced in rhythm to them even though she wished it were Lucky Dube instead. She preferred Lucky Dube’s songs to Bob Marley’s because at her mother’s birthday party when she was four, Lucky Dube’s music was the backdrop and that was one of the most exciting moments of her young life.
They did not tell you, did they? That your staff would wobble and melt at noon and refuse greet the morning sun with an iron core. Continue reading →
A snake flicking its tongue at a crab on Nat Geo Wild had replaced the African Magic Yoruba show on the television at the hospital’s reception when they walked in. She rushed to the seat she had previously occupied before going to get him, it was the coolest corner of the room with the standing AC directly opposite the seat. Continue reading →
Sometimes, a song is your happy place. The rhythm, flow, cadence and lyrics coalesce into a magic feather that tickles your soul and fits wings on each ventricle of your heart. Continue reading →
I like the wiggle of you under my skin, carving your space in the swirl of cells and blood and bone and white, cold hunks of fat. I like to think I too have a space just inside the dermis, atop the blood pump in the third to sixth intercostal spaces, above the thrusts and rhythms of the life you’ve made for me.
I do not know why I carried my phone with me on deck duty that Wednesday morning, was I planning on taking a selfie to send to Naomi? Well maybe, but I had already sent her a dozen pictures of me on the rig at sunrise and several others at midday when the sun struck the Atlantic at the angle that turned it into the golden sheen of sapphire and emerald that makes want to fall on my knees. It never gets old. Continue reading →