EVOL

Do you remember?

My hands, my lips, my touch

Remember,

The moment, the breaths, the atmosphere

Remember,

The lust, the love, the tears,

Do you remember?

The existence, the feelings, the thought,

No,

You don’t!

You choose to select the parts that no longer have the imagine of my face, just my touch upon your struggled skin

My lips upon your greatest desires, my voice scarring your ears

You refuse to allow the illustration of us recollect my being,

Remember,

Remember!

Remember this,

I am not your refuge,

I am no hero to save your parents child from drowning in pools of liquor bitterness,

I am not your right hand – to wipe away the lonely nights of vibration cummin on your legs,

I am not your longing desires – your vacation to the stars, your trip to the islands

I

Am

Not!

Now we’ve got bad blood,

A thick solution that leaks from your canvas monthly only to remind you of me,

Of the fallen moments your body released itself from the arch I manoeuvred you into,

Our bloodsport activities only appear in the nightmares you have at dawn of my hands wrapped around your neck with my name crying from your mouth,

And to say that our encounter was nothing but just intercourse would be a lie for you

A

Lie!

But that’s exactly what it is for me,

Just the motion of our bodies dancing to the music that plays between our sober highs

The grazing of your hands over places people don’t see

Over parts that have its own heartbeat,

Its own cravings,

Its own needs

Her,

Hers!

I can’t comprehend the existence of our souls somewhat interlinking in your mind,

Because I’m good in all the wrong ways,

I’m tasty in all the wrong places,

And maybe that’s why your subconscious had my name ringing alarm bells,

Though,

I’m not complaining,

I’m not even craving you, her,

I no longer have her lips on my mind and dog like panting from my mouth echo in the air,

And!

Nothing has to be just what it seems,

Those are the words I run away from every time I see your lips move,

Chanting the ancestral praise of love, beating your hands against my body to make the orchestra in my head speed up,

I yearn and yearn not for you but us, the thought of the you and I

Combined to formulate the very thing mankind needed,

The existence of melanin on melanin,

Vagina on vagina,

Right there

That’s where we should have started,

at the fight,

in the front line,

risking it all for something that might crumble in the end,

wither into the existence of a memory that will eventually fade,

a touch that will soon mean nothing to us

But at the beginning is where we should be,

hand by hand,

emotion by emotion,

to understand that we cannot fight if we do not believe,

if we are not in sync,

if our bodies doesn’t accumulate the courage to be better versions of ourselves,

The versions that require the parts of me and you.