Soul to SoulA Poem by Haley SmithYou asked about my babies, and I laughed and said I've got none. Your lady was beautiful and you said that looks are nice, but a woman's mind is hard to find Soul to soul. I hope you liked the fries. Tall man from Chicago, in neon clothes and old glasses. You asked if I were a model, you'd seen me somewhere before. Worn hands with line that told me stories held mine-- "I'll see you again. I'd know those eyes anywhere." You came by another night and I saw the hurt and confusion that I could never heal. Soul to soul. I hope you liked the gyro. A modern day jester unaware and abrasive, drinking up my thighs and my skin, talking jive. You told me how much you love Black culture and, "I'm not a creep or nothin', just look at you -- you're gorgeous." and, "Just because my family's dysfunctional doesn't mean I have to be!" but your whiskey eyes and embarrassed friend said otherwise. It hurt my heart -- surface you and inner you. Soul to soul. I know you liked the hummus. Man from afar who sent my skin somewhere else. I made you tea and relished the way your voice felt on my ears. Swiss, educated, magnetic, with that look that made me feel like a queen. Conversation flowing beneath a polite tension. A night forever in my mind, a lust that transcends physicality, the smile that couldn't vanish, the "Does he think about me?" flower forever in bloom, You. Soul to soul.
© 2012 Haley SmithReviews
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3 Reviews Added on March 23, 2012 Last Updated on March 23, 2012 Author
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