“Somewhere inside my throat lives your ache.”

I don’t know how to let you out without destroying us both.

Seek refuge in the space between my bones.

I like to trace the ghosts of your fingers on the back of my hand. They read- I don’t know how to hold without you.

I pocket grief and it beckons me like a lover.

My silhouette is an ocean, your lips a sailor.

There is a calmness in not knowing.

Every beauty mark, a country to roam. Every stretch mark, a river to cross.

I loved you in quiet because to hide is to pretend that it is okay.

Allow me to introduce myself, A warning and a welcoming all at once.

We are so much more than skin can hold.

When I look in the mirror, I don’t see a poem.

I have lived too many lives to be only one thing, and instead of attempting to mesh them into a form of a human being, I have decided to love every jagged edge of mine.

I don’t like how your embrace feels like comfort till the knife thrust.

I always wanted to be more than my brown skin, when you told me I was sweet like cinnamon.

If you wish to read the story of my people look no further than my body.

I am only beautiful when my legs are open and I have forgotten my mother tongue to make room for yours.