If chocolate lovers can love all kinds of chocolate,
the bitter black, the sugary sweet white
and the perfect milk,
why can’t they learn to love people
the same why?
If that happens, maybe there is hope for
racism to be completely
obliterated. Love can bloom.
Just a little experiment.
This is the Spring Palette for the Heart, by Parvathi and Me.
I look at you,
you look away.
I turn my nerves into steel
and walk over to you to talk to you
about how beautiful the weather is today!
About that book you’re holding.
But, fuck you.
This isn’t a damn game
where I chase you and chase you and chase you
and you run away so fast that
the dust catches fire and sucks out
all the breath in me.
I smile up at you as you
thread your fingers through mine.
I know that one of these days,
I will fall and break
and you won’t come to my rescue anymore.
It’s going to hurt me,
but I’m still going to enjoy your touch.
I sit in the cafe, waiting.
There are board games around and
I see Christmas decorations are up already.
I sit in a comfy cushiony chair
and stare at the door.
I hate that you are on hibernation mode in Winter.
I never get to see you.
I need a break from life. My poems are getting crappier and crappier by the day.
You call out to me
in that raspy, sleepy voice of yours
as I’m wrapping a robe
and you pat the bed next to you
and your beautiful body.
You smile lazily and I’m transfixed.
You pout cutely at my expression
and I’m transfixed.
I’m transfixed by the early morning sunlight
peeking from in between the curtains
the way it illuminates your body
accentuating your best parts.
Your face glows in the sunlight
bouncing off your skin.
I’m drawn towards you
like I’m in a trance
as we merge our souls
I somewhat liked this one. But you know which I loved better? This one. It made me feel in places that I didn’t know could be felt.
The saying goes,
“You reap what you sow,”
why do I reap disappointment when
all I’ve done is my best?
Why do I reap depression when
I’ve made others happy?
Why do I reap more struggle just when I’ve helped
myself out of dark, thorny forests?
why do I reap cold stares, dripping with hatred,
when all I’ve done is love?
You should check my friend at Queen Talks. Her response to this prompt is hilarious! You’ll love it!