I.

He’s no longer a man

No, demoted to a sack of blood and marrow shards

Wrapped in sinew.

Dangling like post-celebration piñatas.

His plasma, dripping jelly-like from the center of this pastry.

“Nigger had it coming; he gandered at that white woman down the way…”

II.

Our first kiss was a drunken maelstrom of emotion and disbelief;

A dry hump manifesto.

Hadn’t felt this liberated while in someone’s grasp in a long time.

The next morning,

After the toothpaste cleansed and the mouthwash rinsed,

A statement escaped my pearly whites;

“You know, 70 years ago I would have been lynched for this”

Her dead panned response,

“In a small town in Mississippi, you still would.”

III.

I love her. She Loves

Me. It should be that simple,

So why isn’t it?