So many changes …
Tag: Love
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In her travail, she remembers to love herself, dry her eyes and deeply inhale.
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For so long I held on,
my tightened grip—
a surety that I would not slip.
You came and held onto me as I wept,
and talked to me with love,
through gentle breaths.
To convince me to release,
you guided me step by step;
in my apprehension
I feared my descension,
but you promised to be my protection.
The torment of my soul
was my vulnerability,
still, I closed my eyes and let go;
you caught me,
and I finally breathed deeply.
In my descent into your loving arms, I fell freely.
In my release, you became my peace.
I kept falling—
and love is what I fell in. -
She is a goddess, once broken.
Celestial stars crown her in twilight;
The fire of her passion illuminates the naked night.
Through the vehemence of her eyes, see her.
The delicateness of her is unchanged;
Though strong winds blow against her,
Her scepter and crown remain. -
Standing in front of the mirror,
for a long time, she stared at herself
and began to remove the facade—
slowly peeling off all of the layers;
at the foundation she made a breathtaking revelation
as she wept, beholding a being
that was a divine creation,
exuding magnificence and
angelic light with every breath. -
She steps out of the darkness with resolve,
Her broken heart not fully healed;
Still, she carries on with quiet strength and beautiful calm.
She is not deterred, though her tears are carried in the wind;
She does not weep for herself but for him;
It was in the second trimester, that she named him.
She weeps over her loss but will try again;
In her pain, she called on heaven to safely deliver him,
But it was not as she prayed for it to be;
In tears, blood, and agony she miscarried—
But now, it is in her heart, that he is carried.
She says his name in beautiful whispers
And sings to him lovingly,
Saying, My beautiful baby, forever you are a part of me. -
If we should fall, tell the world of our exploits,
the pain in our hearts, and how for so long we survived the dark nights.
Tell them of what we’ve endured here,
the tears, the weeping, for so many years.
Tell them that we’ve loved and have been loved,
but by the third season our hearts were shattered
and the remnants of our loving hearts, scattered.
Tell them of the injustice we have endured here, and of our martyrs.
Tell them of the blood that runs every summer
and the crying voices that hope to conquer;
Tell them of the beauty of our mothers
and the quiet strength of our fathers.
Tell them that we weep and suffer,
but somehow we still survive the coldest winters.
Tell them that twelve judge us with prejudice,
and the color of our skin condemns us.
Tell them of apathetic eyes that watch us with hatred and bias
and the system set up to destroy us.
Tell them of our ancestors who came over on ships
to be enslaved for generations—
In tears, raped, separated and whipped.
Tell them that, at our breaking point we didn’t give a shit,
and we were not afraid of death in our final moments.
Tell them that their bullshit sentiments are meaningless
and they walk around as empty husks, soulless.
Tell them that we gave it everything we had,
and faced our fates with tears of resolve—and boldness. -
Take my memory and do with it what you will,
but remember I loved you, in spite of, and without strings;
remember you couldn’t fly, but I gave you wings.
Remember you couldn’t sleep, so I stayed up with you
until you fell asleep in my arms, while I would softly sing.
Remember you couldn’t tell the difference between sex and intimacy,
until I held you into the morning, and kissed you slowly,
and wept, as I wrapped you in unselfish pleasure and the warmth of me.
Remember the times of your anxiety, when you couldn’t breathe,
and I talked to you in loving sincerity, and I became your peace.
Remember I adored you, and vowed to always love and protect you;
remember my solemn face and truthful eyes, when I told you,
that I would die for you, and in that moment, you knew that it was true.
Remember you uttered with tears, that you belonged to me,
and that I forever belonged to you. -
Album: Vox Humana
Release: March, 1985 -
You hold the pieces of my heart in your hands
and before the world, you cruelly display me.
The looks, the rumors, and the whispers—
come from people we know mutually.
My soul holds onto the love,
the nights of intimacy, and all that used to be;
I curse myself under my breath,
for my own foolish heart betrays me.
I blow kisses to your pictures,
and again, I am at your mercy.
Intimate Compositions 