Do Idare eat this peach?

Oscillating from the past to the present and back again melodic rhythmic reverberating between now and then.

No longer growing older but growing outward like the rings of a tree or the ripples incited by raindrop.

Originating but never ending.

Adding concentretically to my experience with each trip around the sun.

To revel in the question her blank pitiless stare.

To wonder what what it’s like to be the lungs of a tree breathing through its spectacles.

To love unabashed.

To attempt to speak in the language of flowers.

To fail tranquility.

To inhale.

To exhale.

To repeat.

Retracing the lines time has left on your skin.

Outlining this memory with my fingertips trying to preserve this moment in something less malleable than time.

The sun sits on the curve of your cheeks as your face falls into a soft smile.

The corners of your eyes bend, inviting the full spectrum of light to move through the paths your eyelashes make.

I smile back, knowing full well that this, and all everything else will be lost as heat.

In what fucked up reality do we live in that kids dying on a Tuesday is commonplace?
Poisoned drips into the minds of the future sipping from a drinking fountain that is laced
With lies whispering “tomorrow will come, nothing will change and we all agree it’s fine”
So fly your flag at half mast and leave it there
Because tomorrow is coming you better be prepared

Patience car rides and lullabies.
Stunning strength and sleepless nights.
You are what comfort sounds like.
You posses all the qualities of the sun, and then some.
You are brilliant radiant.
You emanate light.

You give me life and expect nothing in return.

You deserve the world.

But for now I’ll give you these words.

You are warm wise and wonderful.

You see the magic in everything.

You are the kind of woman I aspire to be.

I love you momma you are a queen.

…

I shaved my legs a second time. My face, your face, intensified by breathing. We make love like a church burning down. I look, at you
and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world. Watching you in the mirror I wonder what it is like to be so beautiful. You made the stormy days seem sunny. Floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz; having a coke with you is even more fun.

…

Days go by, fall in love twenty times, it was an accident. Plenty of words over the traffic noise, and nothing could be more effortless. A block away you feel distant the mere presence changes everything like a chemical dropped on paper. There was never any excuse for this and perhaps there need be none. All I know is this, I have fallen in love. Saying something once isn’t enough sometimes. I love you. I love you. I love you

8am:

Lick his lips on the subway line.

Whispers through his bleached white teeth I bet we’d have a good time.

Inching closer, avert your eyes, your existence he thinks grants him permission.

Quick glances lead to unwanted advances.

10am:

Punctual, poignant, smooth like poison as you present.

He repeats, reiterates, restates

Because “what she means is” apparently too comprehensive and cohesive

to be widely understood.

He must simplify and reduce

so his fellow man can deduce.

He must follow the unwritten rule:

No matter her status or rank.

Every idea of hers, he must flank.

12pm:

I do not think thats what they mean when they say whistle while you work.

6pm:

You can bet your bottom dollar her dollar isn’t in fact a dollar at all.

8pm:

Power shift at darkness hits as if he hasn’t. been on top of you all day.

Which route to take home.

How should I do hair for a run.

Where should I sit in this uber.

How long has my drink been sitting there.

Are my keys properly wedged between my fingers.

Only a few of the options she has to weigh.

You’re being dramatic, things are better you should be grateful.

You’re makes mountains out of molehills he will say.

Don’t you dare tell me this problem no longer exists.

This is not even a particularly bad day this is just a Monday.

Mistakenly passing the present as close enough as good enough will only encourage this type of systematic overarching oppression to persist.

Not because she is superior

But by no means is she inferior as generation upon generation falsely maintained.

Repeating the same thing over and over, expecting change.. some would claim is the definition of insane.

The future is female.

Her dreams desires and demands have been heard reinterpreted and misconstrued for her entire existence.

She’s had to reclaim the space between her legs because for some reason he must be reminded that it does not belong to him.

She has left them in awe only for her accolades to be attributed at least in part to a male associate.

The future is female.

The paradigm of patriarchy has done nothing positive for its female counterparts.

She has not been given credit where credit is due from dna’s helical structure to sending men to the moon.

The future is female.

Ten out of ten times she shatters records held by ANY human you will not hear about it on the evening news because suppressing a woman’s success is nothing new.

The future is female.

Tomorrow deserves to be free from one sided oppression.

Equal enough is not equal at all.

There is not a millisecond for regression.

She was not passive. She was patient. There’s a substantial difference.

The future is female.

She will no longer ask for consent coax or cajole.

The future is female she’s taking control.

Bronze gold amber lips graze my cheek

as she whispers sweet nothings about preserving time in starlight.

The duration of an inhale is the only grasp of this allowed.

As I exhale she drifts away.

Whatever is meant to be will be.

She speaks like silk.

Voice lingers for a moment as she is softly dispersed in the spaces of trees.

Only time you’ll mention my pussy is in a tagline

Make a headline

Thinking everything is sublime

Take away her access and rights but goddamn she’s so fine

Whatever you selling she ain’t buying

I know you’re tryin

Trying to redefine reconfine retrofit

Put her in her place

Questioning why we can’t return to the past as you stare the future in the face

She is the future She is fire not the object of your desire

She will burn this institution to the ground all while inspire

A new generation of flames and embers

You’ll try to do your best not to but you’ll be forced to remember

The spark you ignored as She ignite

You brought your lofty words to a fist fight

You think this is checkers when it is chess

So sir sit back relax please do your best

Because it is you who will be stuck on the sideline

She is causing a revolution

And it will be televised