today i am sankofa, i must look back to move forward.  from 2002, i was calling to you, just waiting for you to formally accept the challenge.  nam myoho renge kyo. 

*as always*

of books thrown from balconies
onto white streets, of sheets
closing over one body.

we kept the lights on
throughout violent storms
of vacant arms,
bringing hush to a close,
saying goodnight.

it's not my style to leave
without waking you, so
i wake you from far away,
with my metal door latching.
the sounds of the ways i wish i want.

(as always)

is not a truth held to lips
quieter than anything on my skin,
there is more hush to me
than there used to be.

fold over, unhinging
my back from my you's,
cascade down and lightning, later.
repeat home until home
leaves for elsewhere.