from what I understandshe was a hoodoo woman.she was honey.she was magic.she was a late night in my bed.she was a trickle of laughter,a press of lips,a flutter of my heart,a glimpse of forever. from what I understandshe knew me before I saw her.she knew the press of steelin the palm of my hand.she knew bloodied showersand scars that kept me up at night.she knew what kept me up at night.from what I understandI was lost before I moaned her name.I was lost & not looking for a way out.I was lost until my mother called my nameI was lost…and my only language was her name.from what I understandthe baby grew and grewwhile I went and got found.from what I understandthe baby has her mother’s mouthand my eyes.eyes that couldn’t seethe heart she had handed me,so it got handed back.and now my hands are empty.my chest is too full—her name is pain on my lips.my name is pain on her lips.and now our pain is a baby on her hip.our pain is split between loving the baby on her hipand regretting what made the baby on her hip.from what I understandI am a blind manletting history lead me aroundby the nose & not allowing me to smell life.not allowing me to place my facein the crook of her neckand call it home.not allowing me spaceto get full on love.not allowing me to see my baby’s faceand how it looks like her face.from what I understandI am a no good manbecause her facedoesn’t wake upto see my face.and that is a truthI can barely face.(image by Kevar Whilby via unsplash)