Chinese Restaurant Sunday Dinners
Sometimes conflicted with the Hardy Boys/ Nancy Drew Mystery Hour
But there were pu-pu platters
And white linen tablecloths
Chinese waiters brought
And endless silver pots of tea.
When we stayed in and ordered take-out
It was always shrimp in lobster sauce
And pepper steak & onions (my father's favorites). My mother claimed not to have preferences,
Frowning over white cardboard containers.
Tiny square kitchen table,
Vinyl tablecloth, plastic dishes, no tea.
The tv in the corner played 60 Minutes (My father's favorite)
And then whatever my sister and I wanted.
Dad asleep on the couch by 8.
Mom wordlessly washing dishes.
No need to worry about missing the Hardy Boys
When we ate at home.
I'll tell you about my birthright.
On day 1, it was tattooed on my forehead
and my chest, parallel to my heart
and on the lines of my palm.
Unknowingly, the chosen pathways I took,
the glimmering sand I walked on,
the fancy books I read,
had the poison to fizzle
And at 35, I had a mind filled with ideas,
a finger filled with gold,
a healthy body
filled with one deteriorating, shaken soul.
The birthright faded yet I feel its scar
and the longer it stays the
fresher the wounds apparently are.
On day 1, she had her birthright
tattooed on her lovely forehead
and on her chest, parallel to her little heart
and on the pink lines of her palm.
And I know now, thus,
when she was 5,
I showed her a map of all the
in the midst and over the stars,
at 8, I had let her run, jump and feel
the toil and texture of the earth,
at 10, I travelled her to libraries -
so her birthright would have the courage and
warmth to stay.
And she was scarred, oh boy she was,
but she had learned how to paint wisdom unto it.
And at 25, no matter what she has and
no matter what she has nothing of -
she is the most beautiful soul.
"I use to wear short skirts and shirts that revealed my breast on purpose. I knew that would trap him. I got my hair done on purpose. I knew he'd like me more with Brazilian hair. I'd talk nasty on purpose. I knew my words would hypnotize him and give me an invitation into his world. All that shit would get his attention but it don't keep him. We'd be a Thang for months...maybe, years...but he'd still eventually always leave. Same story, different nigga. I had to learn to stop making him the source of my approval rate. Now, I put that lingerie on for me. The sexual energy that flows within my bones hasn't changed over the years but I changed who I was directing it to. I changed what it takes to make me feel magical. Before you was the key to the spell, now I am the spell all on my own. I look in the mirror daily and fascinate over myself. Seducing me. No man in sight to compliment my sexy. I admire it on my own. And now that my focus has altered, I subconsciously became sexier to THEM, too...A different type of sexy though. The one that can not only capture your penis, but your entire being too." #SexGoddess
Past noon I wake up
with your weight sliding beside me
I felt again
how your presence
is made up of obsolescences
I kept my eyes closed
fearful of the consummation
of your coming back
It's either you take what's left of me
or you become what's left of me
either way, I lose
This time, I wake up for sure
hungry for light,
dry weeping for answerabilities
You hurt me and you don't,
You remember me and you don't;
either way, I lose.