#mamatony

as you’re across town now

i can still feel you.

miles away i feel your warm sunset kissing the horizon of my eyelids.

and the world stands still

inside the light.

miles away i can still see your copper brown pools blinking around your pupils.

staring into me,

tearing into me,

opening into me,

a feeling without words.

miles away i can still smell the yearning on your breathe as your lips part with mine.

the scent of your hair when i close my eyes.

and the feeling of your hands touching my face so softy the wind misses me.

like water creeping into a drought filled valley after an unforgiving summer.

quenching the thirst of the life that heat made brittle.

i lay at the bottom of your valley as the water rushes in and lifts me slowly as i am taken by the current.

it carries me down. down.

going faster and faster i try to grab hold of something, anything, to lift me out.

wrapping my arms around your branches i pull myself up.

i crawl myself to the river bank.

and bury my hands in the wet earth still dry a foot deep because the rain hasn’t come long enough.

my hands sink in softly

taking a deep breath.

i breathe in the smell of your pollen.

your blooming white flowers dizzy me with scent.

and my mind reels.

giving me a sweet headache and a longing i can feel deep within.

i open and release.

you are filling and flowing into me now

to the places left untouched.

if i just learned to be me.

the girl that my father raised me to see

within myself.

a pillar of strength that goes back generations.

the head of a household that weak men and women had no business to run.

i come from generations of women left with children on their hips standing on doorsteps while Cadillacs burn tire marks on drive ways.

and by my own biology i was taught to stay.

through thick and thin, through death do us part.

but my counterpart, the third sex i was born with wants to run like forest.

away from jenny.

because she keeps running from me.

“she’s not the one for you” my dad says.

and by my own weakness i continuously see it through.

and each and every time i am left with half of myself.

but one day, with a roll of a dye, i will play a winning hand.

and the half of me that is still left will be fitted into a puzzle.

it will simple.

i will fit with her.

and she with me.

and together we will complete the puzzle.

-A