A Poem about Sappho

I look like the Taino.
Who, although I’ve never met,
I like to think I do.
With dark brown hair
that has bad the sun’s fingers
brush it as though,
it were my lover.
My skin is
too naturally sweet
for many of these other islanders,
thus creating
that whispered name, “Mud”.
Such a contradiction
to the name, “Violet”.
Though maybe it’s not.
Still I look like the Taino.
Maybe though,
if I looked like Sappho,
I’d be more beautiful.
But I’m part Atabey, part Prithvi.
Beautiful fragrances
mixing with my texture so earthly.
Yet I don’t look like Sappho
so I’m not beautiful.
But you never know
with an oddity like me.
Their idea of beauty
is not for what I’m aspiring.
So despite my “name”,
I have no shame,
because I look like the Taino.

 

Crystal Love

I believe in a heaven
existing between clear thighs
or in golden brown eyes
disguised as worldly things
to be despised 
when they are the desires 
some will expire to possess.
Am I wrong? 
Others know a hell
while hiding in silence
made from darkness and emptiness
after a crispness
that that experience each morning since…
Doing ‘this’ for reasons
that others won’t allow to be present
due to their virtuous ignorance.
Are they wrong? 
There is no sanctum. 
No righteousness
but the one
we created after being magnets
for millions of atoms
to collide in a way
that we pretend makes sense.
We balance on delicate string
knowing anything
could break them.
We are going 
to the heaven and hell
we were sentenced to.
There is chance for innocence. 
Not when secular ‘gods’ rule