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What are you waiting for?
by the shoreline on the kentucky side
i stand, and i remember how you
got down on your knees
as if proposing a promise,
and i remember the last time
you knelt down to caressing my thighs
as your knees dug into moist earth,
and your lips would search out
my own sacred mounds
as the vibrations of my own voice
echoed and answered love’s call
and we left fossil prints of hope
near the grimy water’s edge,
and as you spoke to the spirit of the water,
bubbled a kiss, and my name became. . . ohio.
then, we separated.
and you promised! you swore to meet me
by the special blessed place
when the time of our love was fully ripe,
you promised to meet me
where sycamores and willows
were scarred but still survived
the lashes of barbed rusting metal
snapped by gnarly hands
wielding overseers bullish whips
once you promised
but forgot me over time. . .
forsook my memory
out of convenience
like an antebellum mansion ghost
grieving in a state
of southern discomfort
being forgotten pricks me harshly
and i spurt forth issues of “whys”
that are scarred far beneath that
of a normal rejection, even moreso
than the blood that coursed thru
freedom seekers veins. . .
the very idea of being unfetter’d on purpose
was reason enough
to risk becoming lost in you,
and i run toward the hope
of being free inside your arms;
well, that’s what you led me to believe.
perhaps that is reason
why the southern soil
on the place where we kissed
is as red as my seeping heart. . .
but i guess when you got yourself finally free
that’s one promise you musta forgot.
