Woman,

You spend years wrapping me up

in your selves

Wind me tight

Blueing breasts and juiced out abdomen..

"Yuh know muh lub home but sometime...

I mouth at her glittering neck, her skin hot and wet like a melting sun. Slowly, I find her parted lips and we stumble into another kiss. My heart stutters from the fullness of it.

It was not until my third affair (the wrench in my relationship with Despair), that I began souveniring. In some ways the habit snuck up on me and in some ways it did not. In some ways it was entirely haphazard, wild and almost beyond my control. In some ways, I was totally in control

There is a misconception that the love of a man is hard, reminiscent of a stone statue. They are harden, unmoving, craggy and as such brittle.

I’m tired of sitting. Now, I am standing up.

don’t you dare break her gaze

don’t your dare break the chain

the stories must live on

it has come to my attention that we don't exist 

we the colourful the fluid the bold the open the rule benders…

Even after all these years

I still scared to say these words in public,

still caustous

to let Gay spilt my teeth open

being straight was like living in a closet

I didn’t know was a closet 

some wealthy person’s closet

with enough room and variety

to convince me I wasn’t trapped 

My doormmates whispered about “the lesbian book”. When I told my church youth group my mother had transferred me to an all girls boarding school the elder boys regaled everyone with tales about the lesbians there who used bottles as substitute dildos.

Since I last saw you I’ve been thinking. Thinking about you. Thinking about us, about home, about those kids whose journey mirrors yours and mine, A journey walking with fear. 

She wanted the baby to be okay. Slowly the vision started and she knew, she knew the way that mothers’ know. She knew that this was her child, even though the person in her vision was not a baby, not even a small child, she knew that this was her baby and yes her child was beautiful.

Reyna was 21, but looked and to some extent felt 16; like she hadn’t matured a day beyond the age she discovered the “oddness,” she sensed about herself, had a name.

I couldn’t tell her what I had suffered. It was a guarded secret for me. Opening the wounds meant exposing him and by exposing him I left myself bare. Somehow in my eight year old’s mind, I felt the need to protect him and save both of us from the embarrassment

Yes, I had experiences with girls however I could not help but be attracted to guys. My attraction to guys led to a few experiences, some of which I am proud of, some of which led to emotional scars.

De day afta de Red Muddah shut-up shap

Darkness de covah de rims ah Guyana

Castin de plague ah shadows

Into de souls ah de eye-suh-late.

We watched the queens of New Kingston in the gayest gully on earth caged birds with ambitions to soar grounded by clipped wings

I chose not to be heartless,

I wasn't born with all these scars,

And that's what made me like this,

I'm trying to hold my breath,

To grab hold of a better life,

But until gays are free,

My happiness will never be enough for me,

da bishop daughta in foreign

marrit to woman wit no babies?