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Magnets, Separate
December 12, 2017
adidas,
tumblr notes,
chia seeds,
and erykah badu.
expectations as low as my credit score--
hold up, don’t even know what i said it for.
i should rewrite it all; i should edit more.
hit me up, and i tell you, “you got the wrong number.”
hit you back at night, still heated like a long summer.
a sweetness,
anchored boats,
garden weeds,
and other boys like you.
no “street fighter” or chun li hands--
ain’t gotta throw down, but we can.
i might dead you, but for now i’ll claim you;
hand signs for my set like a blood came through.
then again, we been far from the same hue.
© Christine W., Davis, CA
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let that bum go, and get you a better man.