Jump

They’d gotten a glimpse of me & Talayeh, said nigger before flying; how my white girl said no! as they fled, online chat feature useless. I know no words of Irish but buy tickets to see Kneecap. Suitable? Holds the door open holding the door parted rubbing the hand prints from rectangle metal the door which I walk in blue & collared & knowing nothing. I know your type, she stroked, unwinded her own coiled hair, white then thin then tall then smart men & you’re slugging around all embarrassed. A question can yelp, but I don’t mind. Gone. Gone. Away—but still here. I can’t name a single guy who’s actually fallen to me. I claim it’s cause I hardly squeeze enough out of hours. Exit. Submit to travel, locate that arrow indicating where parallels end. Capital medians get cleaned on Wednesdays. Men-in-orange place what they find somewhere. No one lives inside of you, that’s why no one wants to be close. None of this was meant to be said, those quotes, those underlined words signified to the moon & spiders. I can’t even imagine a colored girl like me on a horse, riding away for survival or, dare I say, pleasure. I break out in hives & pimples where a man might grab me. Not made of pleasure. That knocked down cylinder was made to be rolled back where it belongs. Scuffed loafers, the backs pitted out from themselves. Materially drawn. Human instinct set with holes. Can you even visualize the key? The doors widen, ironed & free. Set the margins where you can pin the lab. Animal upon animal, yet we have no words to talk. These lips—unkissed untouched unlicked—know nothing of how to speak even when purpled flat. Grayed. Give them something else to smell inside you; sesame, loose macaroni, but beyond that window—the reddening blood of a domestic rose. How do you even put your lips to a white person? I gap at even a resemblance of an answer. Throw the polo over a handle, hang my panties with the paired pants, & no one comes close. There would be nothing to hear anyways.