by Porsha Olayiwolo
we are in my bed again and i am holding
her. this is unlike how we usually fuck. her
spine is nested along my forearm and her
hands lace my neck. everything is gentle.
the lyrics blare for us to bend back and hair
tangles the birth of her name in my mouth.
i love her hair. black, big, uncoiling as we
thrust. my thighs pillow the vibrator
pressed to my clit and i know this is more
than the love fabled to us as children. back
to the blood though. it is what makes me
cum. listen: sometimes, i want to get closer
than what is physically possible and
entering is the only way to vanish the
distance of our bodies. i feel wet slick
sliding. she opens and gives. what she
keeps inside is now outside for me,
wrapping around my wrist, scarlet bracelet,
band of fluid too thick, i ravel and ravel and
ravel and she apologizes for the blood. i tell
her i am grateful for the scent of ore rolling
over, for my hands bursting cherries, for
palms that bloom roses at her call.
Porsha Olayiwola is an Individual World Poetry Slam Champion and was named by GK100 as one of Boston’s Most Influential People of Color. She is the Artistic Director at MassLEAP, a literary non-profit organization in Massachusetts serving youth artists. Olayiwola is the current poet laureate for the city of Boston and has her first full collection of poetry forthcoming with Button Poetry in November 2019.