Re:


Tonight, Black History Month is not celebrated.
It isn't even forgotten. It was never thought of.

Tonight, instant coffee is pulsing through my fingers.
Dictionary-digits, as I call them.

Tonight, sleeping is not an option.
Nervous knees will deny my desire for rest.

Tomorrow, I won't get anything right.
I'll drink too hard, I'll smoke too much, I'll cry too often.

But for now, we'll just fold our hands on our laps,
tell stories of ghosts, and regenerate the night we met.

Comments

sidaul said…
"Tomorrow, I won't get anything right.
I'll drink too hard, I'll smoke too much, I'll cry too often."

Whenever I speak, it feels as though that is what I am saying.
Beautiful words.
March 5, 2009 at 8:52 PM
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