old fashioned

or an attachment
to paper

you thought i would say
skin
or
womb
say
seed
or
sword
but
no

it's your hands
they can make me do anything
say anything
connect texts across land (masses) and centuries
break words without mercy or rhyme

it's your hands
i want you to hold me
to fold me
to take me home
to forget
to open me up again
to pass me out
tattoo my margins

it's your hands
because sometimes i think
you don't even realize
you have them
so you have me
so you have a world to make
today

a papercut stigmata
waking those first
reproductive organs

a stapled prayer
bending keep it together
to falling apart

a smudgeable
old fashioned
rain weak
leaf let
me
in

your hands

sista love

Awwwwwww! Everyone! If you want to know who I really am...look at the poem that my sista Ebony wrote for/about me today!

http://sustaintransformlove.blogspot.com/2006/08/poems-of-gratitude.html

Because our lovelyhood depends on a politics of deep celebration, connection and praise,

lex

dream haiku #2

for zach

raiding your kitchen
in queer black utopia
oddly named fagville

black girls rule the world

Three million cheers for the launching of The Coup! A magazine highlighting the voices of black women in the diaspora and edited by two brilliant young black women who I love!

Check out my article "Improvising Peace" in the premier issue on Revolution and Love!

www.thecoupmagazine.com

lovelovelove,
lex

dream haiku #1

for jurina

at a mcdonalds
where they serve watermelon
you can't breathe/i'm scared