The Owner

I belong to me,

and my words

That takes up space,

On thin blue lines.

I belong,

to my warm skin

That looks like honey

Next to his.

I belong,

to my onyx tresses.

They shine like vinyl,

Spinning 45’s

On a hot summer night.

I long, long to belong to him,

And his coffee black skin

And his records that spin,

But I belong to me,

And my words

That takes up space

On white, upright rectangles

That  eventually fades to beige.

Miss N Blog

Miss N

Home