I walked away closed my eyes
and clutched my
that hid Baraka’s “Transbluency”.
Help me God,
to resist the devil and he will flee…
He showed me his scars.
I traced the ink of his tattoos,
across the lines of my fingertips.
His loneliness vibrated in my womanhood.
I am standing here not really waiting
just knowing I must leave.
Maybe tomorrow won’t come
and today can be forever,
but I know
are just theories
and I was just a figment
of his imagination.