Honoring Malachi

Wicked thing that I am

placed

beyond

his tattered fingers.

To many scars.

To many wounds.

I could not fill them

I could not heal them.

Who is this man

laced against my lips like the words

and verses of my poetry.

I met him

said goodbye

and met again

and this time he was to be my man.

My lord

where

as such I must dote on him

praise him

exalt him

while I myself must fall to the side

lips sealed

and legs opened.

He looked modern

and at first glance I would not have suspected him as one of us.

Long hair

baggy clothes

wrinkled shirt

skateboard underneath the arms that held me later that night.

Arms that wanted me

arms that I was sold to

like a fancy bracelet

to be worn for honor and not love

or looks.

I licked my lips

hiding in the kitchen,

then the bathroom

fixing my hair

checking my teeth

pulling my hair back

I needed to see all of my options with my wide eyes.

"What is this?"
"Who are you?"

Do I know?

do you?

I let him touch me

let him kiss me

I let him feel contented that I belonged to him now,

flesh

bones

and my work

my writing

which must know be concealed

hidden again

like my childhood

my hands once again

shaky with the thought of revealing it all.

What am I

on this night

of blue skies

and summer's wondering hot glance

which looked to awkwardly in my direction.

How old am I?

to young

to old.

I don't know anymore,

or want to know.

Should I lose myself in here

somewhere between his kisses and the coming years of my life

that await me

beyond his eyes

which he thinks are beautiful and deep.

My hands

in his

will no longer write

unless I am alone

and never about him

unless it is for this.

I'm ancient

he says.

Am I?

Or is it just the ways of doing things that we now must do that are timeless.

This gown of silver is to restraining

this ring of gold holds my fingers at bay.

What next-

I wanted morning

just so it could all be finished

and I could go back to my own bed

and my journals and notebooks

to fill them up with all of this and keep it their.

Why

my lord

must I kill myself for you

just so I can become the version that you want to see.