I graduated from love poems
I’ve written since middle school
when I learned all the rules to grammar could be broken-
poetically
I wrote of social injustice, politics, introspection and the beauty of being black
Once I was older, I wrote in length about love…
making,
earth… shaking,
back… breaking, God
forsaking
orgasms
I wrote about sex so deep
that you just knew you’d wake up either pregnant
or paralyzed
And I could not imagine
ever
finding this mystical unicorn of romance
that the whole world seeks,
searches, hunts, thirsts and prays for,
yet it eludes them
But one day
I found love
Sweet, sincere, transparent love—
on blackpeoplemeet.com
He was milky way midnight with long locs down his back
and muscles you could see
under two, no three layers of clothes
His smile was warm like rum,
wide like arms greeting someone you miss and sweet,
sweet like southern tea- the kind you get diabetes from
His kisses were pound cake and His touch
felt like home
I could not leave this man alone,
he made my never rush- jump quick,
I felt like my body was made for his…
Tick…ing
heart to love
And at the peak of our romance
he showed me the inside of my poetry
and we
married
like ingredients—
inseparable in this 3-strand marriage
of man, woman and God
Our love moved from a figurative freshman crush
to a full-blown graduate
And 8 years, 6 anniversaries and 2 little children later…
I wipe baby snot with the inside of my shirts,
who am I kidding,
I’ve wiped noses with my bare hands
I primarily listen to cartoon soundtracks because
the Trolls don’t swear or talk about sex-
which is not exactly a conversation I’m interested in having with the 3 ½ year old
People ask me for recipes
I have fans for my butternut squash and carrot soups
My homemade cobblers will may your tongue slap your teeth out
And my eyes deceive me some mornings,
even with my glasses on,
I still have to squint to read my phone
My car is no longer a convertible,
no muscle, no hemi
but it does have broken pretzels under a Graco car seat
On Thursdays, I lead the deacon prayer call,
and on most nights,
I have dinner ready by 4:30
What’s funny is I used to gift him fellatio
while he drove the interstate,
I now gift socks and undershirts-
and he likes it
Fun fact,
this guy loves me
even more now
with my snotted fingers,
aging eyes, uncool car, kid radio, praying, cooking, sock purchasing self
Because
everything changes… and
This is what it looks like to graduate from love poems.
